In Slow Motion, the Blast is Beautiful
by Morgen86
Summary: Destructive, unstoppable, irresistible. A train wreck of a love story. Post S2, MerDer. Final Chapter Up!
1. Chapter 1: Between Supposed Lovers

_A/N - This is going to be a slightly shorter story then my last one. Something different to work on before starting the sequel to And It All Falls Apart. And this story is definitely different. I tend to avoid writing stories in first person like the plague, but I thought it would be interesting to tell a Mer/Der story alternating between their viewpoints. So this story switches back and forth between Meredith's and Derek's POV. (I write from the perspective of male charecters even less then I write in first person, so my apologies if I completely butcher Derek. Hopefully I'll get the hang of it before the end.) Anyway, this story is a bit of a fun exercise for me. It's got a plot that I **know** won't happen on the show, although I do think the potential for this is there...that's why I wanted to write this I guess. Well, enough of me rambling. All comments and reviews are welcome! Also, it's important to remember that this story is about Derek Shepherd, the man, and not McDreamy. And yes, there's a difference. ;)_

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_Meredith_

I think I'm becoming a second Isobel Stevens. Seriously, my world has turned that silent. A week ago, there was color and life. I felt things and I did things. Now, everything has just turned so numb. So silent and cold. I'm just like Izzie. She sits alone in her room, all day, every day. It's dark in there because suddenly she seems to hate the light. Maybe its because the hospital had lights in it, so the light reminds her of Denny? I don't know, I no longer have any idea how her mind works. Actually, I think it doesn't work anymore. I think she might have seriously lost her mind. It started going when she came up with her incredibly stupid idea to steal Denny a heart, and then when he died…the last shred of sanity she was holding onto for him? Well that just fucking disappeared too.

So now, she just sits there in the dark, living in a rumpled corner of her bed. She alternates between crying and staring at the wall. I think she's lost her mind. (I said that before, didn't I?) But yes, it's definitely gone. She isn't Izzie anymore, she's a shell of Izzie. And I'm a shell of Meredith. God, that sounds dramatic. If only I'd thought of that in high school, I would have scrawled it in big black letters over all of my notebooks. Dark black angst goes fabulously with pink hair. Or you know, with a cheating whore of a dirty mistress. Same thing, right? That's the real problem, if I'm going with honesty here…and I might as well try for honesty in my own mind. Everything is numb because of Derek. Everything is silent because of him, everything is nothing because of him. A week ago I was actively living my life, trying to be happy. I think I might have been doing a halfway decent job of it too, but I can't really remember. Everything that happened before I slept with Derek at prom has been stored away in a hazy back corner of my memory. Shell-of-Meredith doesn't have time to deal with stuff like that. She's too busy tiptoeing around the hospital, making sure her roommate doesn't starve to death, and of course actively not talking to Derek Shepherd. Actually, simply saying I'm not talking to him is a huge understatement. We're not just not talking, we're going out of our way to show how much we don't notice each other. It's this grand scale demonstration of just how much we are not speaking to, hearing, seeing, or in any way acknowledging each other's existence. It's terribly mature. I think I've played something similar to this before. In kindergarten. On a freaking playground. Oh well, Shell-of-Meredith seems to enjoy it.

Poor little Shell-of-Meredith. That's actually starting to sound catchy. I remember the exact moment when I transformed from me into her. Surprisingly, it wasn't when I had sex with Derek. I was definitely still very me then. Definitely still feeling things. Lots of things. Lots of excellent, Derek-induced things. My world turned numb and silent a little bit later. The whole transformation seemed to happen in slow motion as I walked across the hospital lobby to take Finn's outstretched hand. I stared at Derek the whole time. He was giving me that incredibly intense stare where his blue eyes turn navy and I start to melt and forget to breathe. I think we were trying to say stuff with our eyes, as if we could stare hard enough and somehow solve all the issues between us. I think my expression was a cross between "I'm sorry," "I can't," and "God, you're hot." The last one kind of wrecked the mood, but I couldn't help it. He was _looking _at me. That's part of the reason why I slept with him in the first place. Eye contact…it's the new excuse for adultery. (Classy Meredith, really classy.) Derek's eyes pretty much went from "Why are you walking towards Finn?" to "I can't believe you actually chose Finn" and then some more general shock and disbelief. He almost seemed hurt for a moment or two, but that vanished pretty quickly to make room for what I can only describe as the Death Glare (and yes, it deserves capital letters) that he shot at Finn.

And then we left. Finn and I. I don't know what made me walk over to him except that he was my date. I had already been rude enough. I couldn't just leave him standing there and run off for another round of exam room sex with Derek. Even though that would have been a lot better then the very awkward ride in Finn's car back to my house. And a lot louder too. Derek and I have always been loud. But that's not my point. I'm not supposed to think about Derek anymore. I'm pretending he doesn't exist.

Derek who?

Yeah…much better. Seriously, I don't think I'm even managing to fool myself here. I might be fooling Derek though because lately, he seems to have gotten pretty good at hating me. I leave prom with my date and ignore him for a day or two, and suddenly he has grounds to hate me? He seriously has a lot of issues with Finn. Maybe even more then I have with Addison. Plus, he deals with his issues by shooting me these piercing dark looks that just scream angry, hateful things about veterinarians while I'm stuck staring at walls and feeling sad and empty. It's simply not fair, his coping strategy is far superior to mine. Just thinking about it makes me want a drink. Actually, scratch that. How did I forget to include alcohol in my list of coping strategies? It dulls everything that's sad and empty and actually makes staring at walls more fun. That's it, I'm going to Joe's after work. It's been surprisingly long since I last visited Joe, he probably misses me (because he's a nice guy and not at all an asshat like Derek.) If only I could go there now, but no, I have to deliver lab results like a good little intern.

"Meredith!" That would definitely be Cristina. I should probably look up or at least try and reply. Nope…not fast enough. "Why are you staring at the wall?" she asks. Coping strategy Cristina, it's a _coping strategy_.

"Umm…no reason," I say, turning around and smiling hopefully at her. Maybe she won't realize that I'm slowly going crazy here. "I wasn't staring. I was thinking." Good job Mer, that'll fool her.

"Right…" See, she's not fooled. That tone right there is Grade-A Cristina Yang sarcasm. All that was missing was the complimentary eye roll. "I cannot wait for tomorrow," she says. Good, at least she's letting the subject of my possible insanity drop. What's tomorrow though? Oh right, OR time. "Finally get to scrub in again. I swear, one more day on sutures and I would've gone all Izzie Stevens on the hospital."

"Yeah seriously," I snort in agreement. And that is why I'm a horrible person. I'm laughing over the fact that my friend's name has become a synonym for a psychotic episode. But give me a second…I can justify this. It's her fault that the Chief banned all of us from surgery for an additional week after the prom. And I need surgery. I'm a surgeon. It's what I do. (Well all that plus the fact that scalpels help distract me from Derek.) So really, I should be able to giggle at her expense for a moment or two guilt-free. Not likely though, lately I haven't managed guilt-free anything. "At least it was only a week," I add, as I successfully tear my gaze from the wall. However, Cristina's giving me a funny look. It's very skeptical, very Cristina.

"So when are you going to tell me?"

"Huh?"

"About what's going on with you and Shepherd."

"Oh…nothing," I stammer. Hopefully that sounded casual. She raises an eyebrow at me, eyes darkening and her lip curling slightly. She definitely thinks I'm lying. However, what I said? It's _painfully _true. "Seriously Cristina, I don't know what you're talking about. There's nothing going on." Hmmm…apparently I'm feeling defensive today. I should just tell her, she is my person after all. But she's got Burke to worry about, I should spare her my Derek drama. I'm feeling very torn here.

"Whatever," she says. "You know I'll find out anyway. I always do." She always does. Crap. I probably should not have nodded when she said that. Now she knows I agree with her. Now she knows she's right. Yep, Cristina's smirking. She knows. "Gotta go Mer," she adds, looking down at her pager. "Joe's tonight?" I just nod as she walks away. I'm so ahead of her on that one.

But why is she leaving? Now I actually have to do something about the lab results I'm holding, possibly deliver them some time this day. Only, they go on the sixth floor and I'm down on two. That means one thing. The elevator. Maybe he won't be in there. We haven't done an elevator yet. I don't know how we've managed to avoid that one for a whole week. It's pretty much the perfect opportunity for the two of us to blatantly ignore each other.

He doesn't seem to be waiting for the elevator though, that's a good sign. I wish I wasn't feeling so tense, as if every muscle in my body had suddenly seized up. It's just an elevator ride…just an elevator ride…just a…crap, he's in there. Leaning against the back wall, his hair in his eyes, very McDreamy. Maybe he's getting off? Maybe this is his floor? Nope, not a chance. But now he has had time to see me standing there gaping at the open door. He's got the tiniest of smirks on his face, as if he's amused by my confusion. I've got to walk on, I've absolutely no choice in the matter.

I make it in a second before the doors start to close and stand at the opposite side of the elevator. Far, far away from Derek. Sadly far, far away is not actually that far when you're inside an elevator. Everything sounds painfully loud, the low hum of the elevator moving upward, the sound of Derek's breathing. Even the silence seems loud, as if it's not just the absence of sound but is really this huge living, breathing barrier stuck in the elevator between Derek and I.

I swear this elevator is malfunctioning because we still haven't reached the third floor. This is just my luck. Not only am I stuck on an elevator with Derek, but I'm stuck on an elevator pretending I haven't noticed he's on the elevator with me. That should be bad enough, but apparently the elevator isn't even moving.

The world hates me.

'_3'_

Okay, never mind. I just heard a definite dinging sound, and the little square labeled with the number three is glowing above the doors. We're moving, it's just at a pace that could put the geriatrics department to shame. I wonder if Derek notices how slowly we're moving…I could ask him. Only then I wouldn't be ignoring him anymore and bad things might happen. I need to keep ignoring him. I need to focus only on the little row of lights above the door. Only three more floors to go and I'll be safe. The only problem is Derek has already broken the rules of our game because I can feel him staring at me.

"Are we ever going to talk to each other Meredith?"

And now he's speaking. Freaking fabulous. The silence is shattered. Actually it's more then shattered, it's utterly and completely obliterated because his voice is low and soft and makes every single one of the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. But no, we're not going to talk. Remember, you're ignoring him Meredith. I thought he was ignoring me too, but apparently not. He was just waiting until he had me cornered in an elevator. "Are we, Meredith?" he asks more insistently. I shake my head.

"No," I manage to say.

"No?" he echoes, crossing over to stand in front of me, so that I have no choice but to look at him. "You never want to talk about what happened? Don't you think we need to talk about it?" His little smirk has disappeared and his eyes are darkening again. I wish they didn't do that. It makes my heart race and I feel like smiling even though I'm mad. Derek simply looks…worried. Actually, I recognize this look. It's that hurt and confused expression he had for just a moment after the prom when I finally took Finn's hand.

"There's nothing to talk about. You're with Addison and I'm with Finn." Whoa…I've no idea where that came from. I'm with Finn? I haven't even talked to him since the prom. I've been in full on avoidance mode from everyone and everything all week. I probably should try and return at least one of his phone calls. But technically I haven't ended anything with Finn, so I guess that counts. "There's nothing to talk about," I add, sounding a bit more forceful.

"Finn…right." Derek starts glowering the second I say Finn's name, his eyes darkening even further. "You're with Finn." I nod, gasping slightly. Because…oh my god. _His eyes. _

"I'm with Finn," I repeat at last. I need to focus on Finn, on his impressive breakfast-making abilities, on the weather even. I'd gladly think about _anything _other then what I'm thinking about right now, because right now I'm trying to figure out if there's any possible way I can kiss Derek in the elevator without causing serious damage to my point that there's nothing for us to talk about. This is why I've been ignoring him. Ten seconds of conversation, and I'm already contemplating more inappropriate physical contact. I have a serious problem. "With Finn…" I stammer yet again, forcing myself to back away until I'm pressed against the rear wall of the elevator. Derek cocks his head to the side, his eyes boring into me.

"Just what is so great about Finn?" he asks, stepping towards me as he speaks. His voice has turned into this low, rough whisper that sounds injured and angry. The fact that we're once again only a few inches apart is not making it easy to follow the no kissing policy. I don't know why we always seem to argue with our bodies practically pressed up against each other. It's really hard to remain focused when I'm standing _this close _to Derek. I can't stop staring at the way his lip is curling just a little as he speaks, and how the fact that he is angry is giving his eyes the same heavy-lidded look they had in the exam room. I seriously need to start falling for unattractive men, because the way Derek's bracing himself against the wall as he leans towards me is sending everything spinning out of control. I think we are supposed to be fighting, but all I can feel is the sudden desire for more of this, more of Derek, more of us, more of this closeness.

"He's got…he's…well, Finn…" I hear myself stammer. I don't know how I'm managing to speak at all. My voice sounds faint and faraway but at least the fact that I seem to be talking means that I'm not kissing Derek.

"What Meredith?" Derek sounds exasperated, slamming his hand against the wall of the elevator as he speaks. Somehow, I manage to hear the soft little clink of metal on metal as his hand collides with the wall. My gaze turns towards his hand, but I already know what it was. His wedding ring. _Married, married, married. _The dizzying rush that was inching my lips closer and closer to Derek's is fading away because of that one, tiny little sound. I shake my head and move away, but Derek is still staring at me expectantly, his eyes demanding an answer. I wish I had one, it's a reasonable enough question. What's so great about Finn? My mind latches onto the only thing I can think of.

"Finn has plans," I snap. I've sure started putting a lot of weight on these plans. I don't even know what they are yet, just that Finn has them. But, I could probably use some plans. My life is one huge unplanned mess. Maybe that's what is wrong with me. If I had plans, I wouldn't have slept with my boss the day before starting my internship. If I had plans, I wouldn't have slept with him again at the prom. I also wouldn't have been seconds away from kissing him in the just now. And Finn's nice. He cooks and takes care of animals. He doesn't have a wife. I would probably like his plans.

"He has plans," says Derek scornfully. His expression looks surprisingly like a sneer. I don't know how Derek thinks he has the right to sneer about Finn when, out of the two of us, he is the one with the freaking wedding ring on his finger.

"Yes, he has plans," I repeat, growing angry. "He's honest and nice, and he likes me." I whirl around to glare at Derek when suddenly there is a loud ding and the doors to the elevator slide open. I don't believe it. The sixth floor. I've made it. Derek opens his mouth as if to speak, but I shake my head and start moving towards the door. There is no way that he is getting the last word in this. "That's more then you and I have ever had Derek…" The words come out in a low hiss because I'm halfway out the elevator and back into the open air of the hospital. Well, that was unexpected. Apparently I'm going to be calling Finn when I get out of work tonight.

Derek slumps dejectedly back against the elevator wall as the doors glide shut, and I turn away, breathing heavily as I sink down onto an empty gurney in the hallway. I made it out of the elevator without kissing Derek and I got in the last word. I should be happy.

Somehow I just feel empty.

_Derek_

I've always been one of those guys for whom things come easily. In New York it was just a way of life for me. The ideal internship, the successful career, the gorgeous wife. I'm not saying I don't work hard because I certainly did and do still. It's just that things have always had a way of simply falling into place for me, without much effort on my part. At least it always seemed that way until I came to Seattle. I suppose technically things started to shift and be less then perfect way before that. The moment I found my best friend screwing my wife simply being the most glaringly obvious example of this. However, Seattle brought Meredith, and she's the catch. She's why things haven't fallen back into place, she's why nothing is easy anymore. She's…well, she's pretty much impossible. That's the best way to describe her. She's impossible to get over and impossible to forget. The way she smells and feels and tastes, what her favorite food is, the way her eyes light up when she smiles…all of that is permanently etched into my memory.

Most of the time, she's impossible in a good way. But sometimes, like now, she's just fucking impossible to understand. She ignores what happened at prom, pretends it didn't happen and then goes out of her way to make sure the two of us are never alone for even a second. She does that for a whole week, taking long roundabout routes through the hospital and clinging to the other interns like a shadow. She won't even look at me after she leaves the prom with that overgrown boy scout she apparently wants to date. I know I don't exactly have a lot of ground to stand on when it comes to Meredith, but I didn't think a few minutes of conversation was too much to ask for. I finally managed to get her alone in an elevator this afternoon long enough to find out that it apparently was. There's nothing to talk about and she wants Finn.

He has _plans_.

I don't even know what Meredith means when she says that. He has plans? Everyone has plans. I don't see what's so damn special about being able to make a few plans. But apparently it's something because she brought it up in the exam room as well. I could pick up the phone and make a dinner reservation, and then tell her the two of us have plans. Somehow I don't think Meredith would be amused. And actually, neither would Addison. Wives have this funny habit of getting angry when they see you with your ex-girlfriend. They probably get angry when they find out you just had sex with said ex-girlfriend too, but fortunately Addie doesn't know that yet.

I thought about telling her. Sitting at home in the trailer, after I watched Meredith leave with _him_, I almost just blurted it out. I wasn't even planning any explanation or lead-in to what I was going to say. Simply, "Addison…I slept with her." I wouldn't have had to say her name, we both know it's always Meredith. I'm not sure what I was hoping to accomplish by telling Addison. I don't think I was even thinking at all. I just felt so cold. As if, when Meredith left with Finn, she stole away everything that was good and warm within me, leaving me hollow and blank and cold. After that I just wanted some sympathy, wanted someone to tell me what to do about Meredith. And Addison gives good advice. I used to come to her with all my problems, from stupid things like needing a tie to match a suit to the big things like an important surgery I was stressing over. Back when we took the time to talk, she always knew what to say. She would always manage to see something that I had overlooked. Somehow, I don't think she'd respond as helpfully now to my problems with Meredith.

Fortunately, Addison didn't give me the chance to talk. She just stared at me wide-eyed, her blue eyes seeming close to tears, before shaking her head and going to bed. She left me alone in the tiny dark kitchen, the words still lingering unspoken on my lips. I don't think I slept at all that night. I just sat there listening to the even sound of Addison's breathing, trying to pretend that Meredith leaving with Finn didn't feel like the freaking end of the world. I pretty much failed because a week later it still feels that way.

I've tried to imagine what Addison's reaction would be like if I told her, if she would scream or cry or throw things. Maybe she would simply accept it. Sometimes, I think she already knows, or at least suspects that I've slept with Meredith. It's something in that tired hurt look she gives me, the one that makes me feel like even more of a bastard then I already know I am. That look is why, after the first night, I haven't thought about telling her. I honestly don't see the point in telling her. She looks hurt enough, and this would only hurt her even more. Once I know more, once Meredith finally agrees to talk to me, then maybe I'll tell Addie. Maybe. Maybe she never needs to know the details. For now, we're just pretending that everything's fine. And that's what I'm about to do now, go home with Addison and pretend I'm thinking about something other then Meredith.

If I could just find my wife. The hospital lobby is pretty empty, and I sit down to wait for her. I've barely been sitting there for a minute, when I hear someone clearing their throat, and I look up to see that dark-haired ortho doctor…umm Dr. Torres I think it is.

"Dr. Shepherd," she says, practically spitting out my name. The way her eyes flash with subtle, unspoken resentment is even more impressive then Meredith's angry glare.

"Dr. Torres," I reply. Hopefully I sound casual, as if I've somehow managed to forget that she walked in on Meredith and I. God I hope that's not what she wants to talk about. Maybe Meredith told her everything, they do seem to know each other. But then, everyone seems to know Meredith. I just frown, looking at Dr. Torres expectantly.

"Your wife is looking for you." Her voice sounds bitter, dripping with scorn as the word wife rolls off her tongue. Well at least she's not here to talk about Meredith. I don't know why she's playing messenger for Addison though.

"Well I'm out her looking for her too," I say, tilting my head towards the row of chairs holding my coat and bag.

"Funny. I'd of assumed you were looking for Meredith," she says shortly.

"Dr. Torres," I begin angrily, straightening up at her words. Apparently the fact that I'm an attending and the head of my department doesn't get me any respect in this hospital. "Dr. Torres," I repeat. "I…" But before I can continue, George O'Malley has wandered over to us.

"Hey Callie," he says. Callie…that's her name. He's resting his fingers against her waist as he speaks, and when she turns to look at him her expression softens. Something clicks into place in my mind. George and Dr. Torres are together. That's how she knows Meredith. Good. At least it means he won't have any reason to try and sleep with Meredith again.

"Hi," Dr. Torres replies before turning back to resume glaring at me.

"Oh…hello, Dr. Shepherd," continues George, looking back and forth between the two of us. He frowns in confusion as I return his greeting. "Umm…am I interrupting?" he asks hesitantly.

"No, not at all," I say at once. "We're finished here."

"Yeah, we're done for now," says Callie, her voice equally blunt. "I'm ready to go George." She smiles and turns to leave with him, but manages to narrow her eyes in my direction one more time. I just sit there as they walk away, letting my head drop down into my hands once they're out of sight. I have no idea what I'm doing here. I wish like hell that I did, but…I don't.

When I finally look up again, there she is, halfway across the lobby. _Meredith. _She's talking on her phone, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulders as she laughs. If only she didn't look so incredibly beautiful… Before I even realize what I'm doing, I've stood up and am walking towards her.

"Okay…I know, definitely. Tomorrow night yeah, I promise. I know, I know, I'm sorry. Alright, I've gotta go," she says into the phone, smiling as she closes it and slips it into her purse. I hope that wasn't Finn she was talking to, but somehow I'm pretty sure it was. I have to actually bite my tongue to keep from blurting that out.

"Meredith," I say quietly. She turns around, seeming surprised to see me standing there. The gentle smile on her lips fades away and she raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Dr. Shepherd," she says flatly. I hate when she does that. She knows it's Derek. But then, she probably does it because she knows I hate it.

"Meredith," I insist, using her name again.

"Doctor She…"

"Mer come on," I plead and she sighs.

"What, Derek?" she asks, giving in a little. She crosses her arms over her chest, frowning at me. "I'm busy here. I have a depressed roommate I have to go check on. Do you need something?" Well yes, I need her. I need her to stop looking at me like that, to come back to me, to forget that Finn ever even existed.

"Meredith, please…can we just go talk somewhere? I don't want things to be like this between us. You're too important to me," I say softly, and she seems to hesitate. At least she hasn't turned around and stormed off yet. She's eyeing me warily, biting down on her lower lip, but not saying anything. Unable to stop my hand, I reach out, just wanting to touch her. I brush the hair away from her eyes, my fingers running down the length of one loose wave. Meredith has always had the softest hair, sort of like silk. I feel her tremble slightly beneath my hand, but she doesn't pull away. She just stands there staring back at me, her green eyes wide and almost helpless. I can't help but think that maybe Finn isn't all that great because if he was, well…she would have pulled away already.

But then she does. I can feel her tense beneath my fingers, and she jerks away, slipping out of my grasp. She's staring at something over my shoulder. "Mer…what's wrong?" I murmur.

"Don't," she snaps, before turning her attention back to me. "This is _wrong_," she hisses as she adjusts her purse and turns around, hurrying out the door towards the parking lot. I want to follow her, chase after her and make her listen to me, but her words have left me with a heavy sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I turn around slowly to see what Meredith was looking at, but I'm pretty sure I already know who caught her attention.

"Addison…" I say quietly, as the two of us walk towards each other. Of course it would be her. Her expression is cold and harsh, something that could be described perfectly as "frigid bitch" if I didn't know that I completely deserved it.

"Are you ready to go now Derek, or are there any other interns you need to manhandle?" she asks. Her voice is clipped and as cold as her eyes.

"Addison…" I begin again, thinking about arguing. But I end up settling for just sighing heavily, and agreeing to go home with a nod of my head. We've already put on enough of a show in the lobby for one evening. It takes me a moment to realize that I'd left all of my stuff sitting over on the chairs when I went to talk to Meredith. Addison just stands there in the middle of the lobby, hands on her hips, waiting as I collect my things and walk back towards her.

The two of us walk outside and through the parking lot in total silence, the only noise being the constant click-clicking of her heels against the pavement. I should say something. I was only talking to Meredith, just talking. She knows we talk.

"Look, Addie…" I finally try as we reach the car.

"Derek, don't," she snaps as she yanks open her door and slides in. That wasn't the first time I've heard that tonight, and I have a feeling that it won't be the last either. I don't know how I'm supposed to solve any of this mess when I keep getting met with opposition from both sides. I sigh and get in as well, turning up the radio as I start the car.

At least, for a little while, the silence isn't so painfully obvious.


	2. Chapter 2: It's Beginning to Get to Me

_A/N - Sooo, this is a rather long chapter. But I tend to love long chapters, so hopefully you guys won't mind. I wanted to say thanks so much for the great reviews I got for the first chapter. It helped me feel a lot less nervous about this story. I'm glad people are enjoying the two POVs, and that Derek's is at least somewhat believable. (He is tricky, lol) Anyway, this is an angsty chapter for both Meredith and Derek. I've always pictured Derek as the type to sit there, all dark and brooding. So yeah, I'm letting him brood a little. That's all, ready away and review!_

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_Meredith_

I never realized how much Izzie's incessant baking helped make my house feel like a home. It's cheesy, and I better make sure I never admit it to Cristina, but there was something really nice about waking up to cupcakes on the counter and Izzie fussing about. Because now, when I walk inside the kitchen, it's always dark and empty. There aren't any dirty mixing bowls rinsing in the sink, and the room smells of nothing except maybe a vague hint of leftover coffee. It's cold and empty, and it makes me miss Izzie.

I don't even bother to check the other rooms when I come home. She's always in her bedroom. I just hurry up the stairs and knock on her door. There's no answer. (As usual. I'm getting good at how we do this.) "Izzie," I call gently. When she still doesn't answer, I knock again, louder this time. I pretty much do it because it feels rude to barge in. She never bothers to answer, but she never bothers to lock her door either.

I open the door and walk in, squinting to see in the suddenly darker space. She's laying on her side, with her back to me. Her hair is splayed out behind her, a tangled, pale mess against the darker shade of her pillow. "Izzie…" I say again. "Izzie I know you're awake." Cristina thinks it would be better just to leave her alone, but Izzie's eyes have turned blank and glazed. I'm seriously afraid to leave her alone too long. "Iz, come on," I beg, walking around to the other side of her bed. She's not even pretending to be asleep. She's just laying there, staring off at nothing. "How are you doing?" I ask, kneeling down into her line of sight. She blinks and shifts, seeming to just now notice me.

"Meredith…" she mumbles quietly. Alright, progress. She usually just turns her head the other way. I nod hopefully.

"Yeah?"

"Nothing," she sighs. Great. So much for progress. She starts to turn her face into the pillow, but I reach out and grab her wrist.

"Come on Izzie. You've got to do something," I press. (I really want to get to Joe's already, so hopefully we can hurry this along a little bit.) "Have you eaten anything?" She just gives me an empty shrug. "Want me to order you some food? What about that really good Mexican place? You liked them." Izzie just continues with the blank stare. "Or…I could microwave you something," I offer. I can't cook. With me, microwaving seriously is the best option.

"Umm…" says Izzie softly. Her voice barely qualifies as a whisper. I nod again, watching as she slowly sits up. It's hard to describe just how slowly she's moving, but it's at a speed that makes the elevator ride I had with Derek this afternoon feel like a ride on a jet plane. Or a cheetah. Or anything really, seriously fast because wow…Izzie is still only halfway to sitting up. I didn't think it was humanly possible to move this slowly. "Microwave," she finally says once she has leaned herself comfortably back against the pillows.

"Microwave," I agree. Before she has a chance to change her mind, or shift into crying instead of reluctant conversation, I give her shoulder a squeeze and hurry back downstairs. The cabinets are pretty empty. I think both George and I have been feeling too overwhelmed to deal with grocery shopping lately. Although, unless Callie's secretly married and George is also potentially dating a vet, I think George should get to do the shopping. I'm definitely the one who's more overwhelmed out of the two of us. To convince him though, I'd have to tell him about sleeping with Derek. Not a good idea. Once you've burst into tears while a guy's on top of you, all future conversations about your respective sex lives become incredibly awkward. Yeah…it's best not to say anything and just take my turn with the shopping. Unless Callie already told him. Crap. But I don't think she did. I am pretty sure that I would have gotten a well meant George-lecture by now if she had. But I don't know for sure. Double crap. See…this is why you shouldn't sleep with your married boss/ex-lover (who broke your heart) where just about anyone can catch you.

I mean…it's why you shouldn't sleep with him at all.

Yep, no sex with Derek.

Ever...

I wish I sounded more convincing. This would be a lot easier if either one of us were bad in bed. (Which we aren't. Obviously.)

Anyway, I'm supposed to be cooking for Izzie. Or microwaving, whatever…same difference. We've got cereal, Ramen noodles and leftover pizza. Wow, this is actually worse then college. Ramen noodles it is then. This stuff actually smells pretty good. It's reminding me that I haven't eaten anything since five o'clock this morning. I'd make another bowl but I really want to get to Joe's already. Besides, I can eat there. Joe serves peanuts after all. Yeah I know, hardly sensible. But seriously…why start with sensible now after all this time?

So instead, I hurry back upstairs again, trying not to spill any of the broth on the floor as I make it to Izzie's room. She's still sitting there, just as I left her. "Here Izzie," I say as I sit down on the bed next to her and pass her the bowl. She looks closer to crying then she did when I first came up, but she actually manages a little half-smile.

"Sorry…" she mumbles. She says it so softly that I almost don't hear her.

"Why Iz?" I ask, shifting around so that I'm facing her. She shrugs her shoulders, her expression growing almost childlike. But after a moment, she lets out a short bark of a laugh, and when she speaks she sounds more like the Izzie Stevens I remember then she has all week.

"For being so pathetic." I actually smile as she says that. I was starting to think that there was nothing at all left of Izzie within her, that Denny dying had so devastated her that she'd become a new person. A new, empty, lifeless person, but still a new person. But that there…_that_ was a little like Izzie. And so I'm smiling.

"It's okay," I say quickly. "We understand." But even as I speak, I can see her slip back into silence. She gives a weak shrug and stares down at the noodles floating in the bowl. "You know you can talk to me if you need to," I add. "I'm here for you Iz." I want another glimpse of the old Izzie, but I don't get it. She simply gives a very vague nod and absently stirs the soup. I sit there for a good five minutes, and she doesn't move at all. Finally I sigh and get up off the bed. "I'm going to Joe's, but George should be home soon," I say, as I glance back down at the untouched food. "You should try and eat that before it gets cold," I add. Izzie sighs but takes a halfhearted bite as I head towards the door.

I almost feel guilty for leaving Izzie alone. But as I step outside, purse clutched between my knees as I struggle to simultaneously pull on my jacket and lock the front door, I hear two familiar voices. George and Callie. Excellent, I'm not actually leaving Izzie alone.

"Umm…Mer, what are you doing?" asks George, eyeing the admittedly bizarre angle I've twisted my body into.

"Locking the door." I straighten up and turn around, avoiding meeting Callie's eyes. I'm not exactly sure where the two of us stand now that she knows I'm an evil dirty mistress. She hasn't said anything about it, and the looks I've caught her giving me don't exactly qualify as dirty. But, I wouldn't call them sympathetic either. Basically she makes me nervous. And guilty. Definitely very guilty.

"Hello Meredith," she says evenly. Great, now I've got to look at her. I was hoping we could pretend to not see each other. Sort of how Derek and I were pretending, until today that is. I've had to pretend a lot since the dirty prom sex. And…look at that, my mind is back on what Derek and I did. See Callie really is fabulous at inducing the guilt, and all she's said so far is hello. I wonder if she's met my mother. That could explain things.

"Hey Callie," I say, hoping that George isn't picking up on all the weirdness. I glance up at her, and she raises an eyebrow. However, she doesn't say anything else which must mean she hasn't told George. Thank you Callie! Seriously, thank you! That's one less problem for me to drink away tonight. "I made Izzie soup," I continue, turning to look fixedly at George.

"You cooked?" he asks skeptically, grinning at the idea.

"Yes, I cooked," I say sounding slightly defensive. His eyebrows shoot up even higher at my words, and I can't help but smile somewhat sheepishly. "Fine…in a microwave," I admit. "Just check and see if she eats it, okay? She was being, well…you know."

George frowns sadly, his eyes instantly growing wide and worried as he nods. "The same."

"Yeah, the same."

"I'll check on her," he agrees. His shoulders slump dejectedly as he speaks. This has got to be even worse for him then it is for me. I mean, Izzie is his Cristina after all. I nod and start to shuffle past the two of them, when George looks back at me. "Where are you off to Mer?" he asks.

"Meeting Cristina at Joe's." I cringe slightly at Callie's expression. She's probably just decided that I'm not only a whore, but an alcoholic whore. Although actually, any of the nurses at work would've been happy to tell her that long before now. Apparently my life is one of their favorite topics. At least, that's what Izzie's always said, and she's a much better gossip then I am. "I've gotta go," I say quickly. And I turn and hurry down the porch steps to my car before George can get in a reply.

Even though it takes me awhile to get to Joe's, I still beat Cristina there. "Long time no see Dr. Grey," calls Joe teasingly as I walk up to the bar.

"Yeah. I know." I just sigh and sink down onto a stool. Joe takes one look at me and reaches beneath the counter. I smile as he sets a shot glass full of tequila down in front of me. "You know, I love you Joe," I say before swallowing the shot. I really do. Love him, that is. He's so nice and he's got tequila.

"Aw Mer, I love you too." I look expectantly at my now empty glass, and he refills it for me. "McDreamy again?" The tequila burns as it rushes past my lips and down my throat. I just nod, feeling slightly dizzy for a moment.

"And McVet."

"And McVet?" he asks curiously, leaning forward on the counter. "There's a McVet?"

"There is," I agree. Well there is now that I've finally called him back. I'm still not sure if that was a good idea or not. I wish it wasn't so crowded in here tonight. Then Joe could listen to me instead of wandering away to fill other orders. As it is, he gives me another sympathetic smile and pours me a third shot before turning away to get some guy a beer.

I also wish Cristina would get here already because my mind is starting to drift, and that is definitely never a good thing. It always drifts straight back to Derek. He's got this bizarre control over my thoughts, especially all my dirty thoughts. Like right now, I'm thinking about this _excellent_ thing he did with his tongue at prom. That was new. (I seriously hope he didn't learn it from Addison.) But Derek has always commandeered all my dirty thoughts. I never seem to manage any about Finn. Which could be a problem, since I'm apparently seeing him tomorrow night. Or the fact that I'm upset about that could just be yet another sign that Derek's right and I'm a whore. I'm not sure which it is. What I really need is an objective third party to help me figure it out. Oh perfect…Cristina's here. Except I'm not supposed to be bothering her with my boy problems right now. Nope, I'm not going to say a word.

"I finally called Finn," I say as she sits down next to me. And that's why you don't down three shots in five minutes when the only food you've had all day was a single slice of cold pizza. Your lips get loose and all kinds of things start to slip out.

"Seriously? I thought you'd been ignoring him." Well yes Cristina. That's why I said that I _finally _called him. She needs to pay better attention to my story here.

"Well yeah," I say. "I was. But then I got stuck in the elevator with Derek today." I sigh heavily and lean forward, waving Joe back for more alcohol.

"I knew this had to do with McPrick," she says proudly. She turns to look at me, a very obvious smirk on her face. I just down more tequila. "What'd you do now Mer?" Me? Why does it have to be me? It could very easily be Derek who did something.

"_We_," I begin pointedly, emphasizing the word. "_We _had sex." Her eyebrows shoot straight up and she nearly spits out her drink.

Crap. This is what I meant about alcohol and spilling secrets.

Cristina is just looking at me incredulously. "In the elevator?" She shakes her head. "Mer, wow. Seriously. You just set a new record with that one."

"Not in the elevator," I snap. "At prom. In an exam room." I don't know why I'm acting as if that makes it any better. Well, I suppose it _is _slightly better then an elevator. But it's still bad. I can tell because Cristina's eyebrows haven't lowered a single centimeter. "We didn't mean to," I offer hopefully. "It just happened."

"Right. Accidental sex. Yeah, I've heard that's a real common problem." Something tells me she's not buying my explanation. It could be the sarcasm that her voice is just dripping with that's clueing me in. Or maybe it's the fact that she's actually set down her drink and is rolling her eyes at me.

"I know…it was stupid," I moan, letting my head fall down into my hands. She doesn't say anything, and after a moment, I look back up. I think I might be glaring at her. Oh well, secret's out. No use pretending to be fine with everything now. "Cristina this is bad," I say. "Not just kind of bad. But really, seriously bad. I'm freaking out here!" I slam my shot glass down on the counter, shaking my head as I speak.

"Alright," she says at last. I can't believe it. She's actually nodding, all traces of sarcasm gone. "Give me the whole sordid story. I'm being supportive." Aw Cristina. This is why she's my person. I would seriously hug her right now if I didn't know that that would be likely to end with her elbowing me in the ribs.

And so I start to tell her. Everything. Finn and Derek and the prom. Doc dying and all of the arguing. Derek _looking _at me. I can't leave that part out because seriously, what type of person forgets to mention eye sex? Of course, my whole story is punctuated with frequent glasses of tequila. By the time I get to what happened today in the elevator and then the lobby, I'm pretty sure I'm not completely coherent anymore.

"So Shepherd gives you some sex.." she begins, but I quickly interrupt her.

"Not just sex Cristina. It was really, really good…seriously good sex. Amazing sex," I say. I think I'm actually shaking my finger at her. Yep, I'm definitely drunk right now. Tomorrow morning is not going to be fun. I really wish I could manage to stop talking though, because I have this sinking suspicion that I'm about to start describing everything to her. And I mean _everything._ "Cristina, seriously…I mean Derek's always been good. But at prom, well he had me up on…"

"Meredith," interrupts Cristina immediately. "I do not want details. I do not need to know just what you and Shepherd think up to do to each other."

"Fine." My mouth listens to her but not to my own brain? That's not fair, but it's not actually that surprising either. She is Cristina after all. I have been building a very impressive pyramid out of my emptied shot glasses, but as I go to put the top glass in place, my hand slips. Or maybe I completely miss the top row and just plow my hand through the middle of the pyramid. I'm not sure. Either way, I wince as the whole thing topples over. "Fine," I grumble again, glaring at the messy countertop. Cristina's just smirking at me. I don't know why she gets to be less drunk then I am. It's not fair.

"So basically, now you're freaking out, and you're going to go running back to McVet so you won't have to be lonely while you try to ignore McDreamy?"

Wow. She just summed up all of what I spent the past hour explaining in a single sentence. And she got it right. I nod my head in agreement. Except no…I'm not running back to Finn. That sounds horrible. I'm simply ready to enjoy his plans. I try to shake my head, but the room is pretty blurry by now, and I'm not sure if I'm actually shaking my head or still just nodding it in agreement.

"Not running Cristina. Enjoying." She just frowns at me. I don't think she's getting my point. "He has plans," I try again.

"He didn't care that you ignored him for a week and ditched him at the prom?" I bite my lip, trying to remember how our conversation went.

"Not really. I told him about Izzie, work, the heart, the Chief, Izzie, stuff," I say, listing things off on my fingers as I speak. "He understood. He's understanding." I frown and shake my head because Cristina still doesn't seem convinced. "Derek's not understanding," I explain earnestly. "He called me a whore. Finn's nice."

"He's too nice," says Cristina at once.

"No he's not…" I say. I think that came out kind of slurred. I frown again, trying to focus. Derek used to be nice. At least, before he decided I was a whore and that Doc should get shot. Poor Doc…I miss him. I wonder if Finn still has the body…or if Derek took it. I should find that out. Why is Cristina looking at me like that?

"What body?" she asks. Oh crap. Not only are my thoughts rambling but they're now spilling randomly out of my mouth. I need to step away from the alcohol.

"Nothing…my dog," I stammer. "Finn's a nice amount of nice," I add, as I finally remember what we were talking about. Cristina actually snorts at that.

"Nobody's that nice Mer," she says. "It's freakish." I just shrug. "Since when do you like happy people?" she asks incredulously.

"Hey I like happy, and nice. Nice is good for me," I say defensively. "Maybe it's just what I need."

"Right, and transferring from surgery to obstetrics would be just what I need," she says, shaking her head. Damn. She was supposed to be my objective third party. And when I say objective party, I mean a party that completely agrees with my decision to call Finn. I'm starting to feel pretty nervous about tomorrow night's dinner plans with him. "Seriously Mer," continues Cristina. "Are you forgetting what happened the last time you tried nice?"

Oh no…

She just…I don't believe it. She is actually alluding to the George incident. She is bringing up what was arguably the worst sexual experience of my life _now_? While I'm too drunk to form anything resembling a coherent sentence?

"Person," I state angrily. "You're supposed to be…how could you…you say you're my friend," I stammer.

"You're supposed to be my person. That is not good person behavior!" Cristina shrugs. She doesn't even say anything. She just shrugs and sits there looking incredibly smug. "Cristina!" I insist, hoping that she'll take it back. (Wishful thinking, I know. Cristina doesn't take things back.)

"It's true," she says at last. "I'm not saying you should keep screwing McMarried, but you don't do _nice, _Meredith." I hate that. I can do nice. I'll show her. And Derek. He probably doesn't think I want nice either.

And I don't.

I mean… Crap. I do. I want nice. I definitely want nice.

"Shut up," I mumble dejectedly as I stretch my arm out towards Joe. I need another shot. And then maybe another one.

I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a very long day.

_Derek_

I sneak glances at Addison on the ride home. They're quick, furtive glances that avoid the possibility of eye contact. I'm pretty sure all of my stealth is for nothing though because every time I look at her, her eyes are trained on her lap. She's playing with her wedding ring, twisting it nervously around on her finger. The way she's staring at it, her fingers lingering sadly along the diamond's edge, should probably make me feel like a first-class asshole. Addison's my wife afterall, and she's staring at a ring she used to be ecstatic over without even the slightest hint of a smile on her face. That should make me feel miserable. Only, I don't feel any different then normal. The way I see it, that pretty much means one of two things. Either miserable, guilt-ridden bastard has become such a constant state of mind for me over the past week that I can no longer register slight changes in its intensity, or I've simply stopped caring about everything that I've spent the last eleven years of my life working for. (I'm kinda hoping it's the first option, but honestly I don't really like either choice.)

Either way, I don't come out looking too great. It almost makes me want to talk about what's happening to the two of us. Usually it's Addie who's pushing for us to talk, but tonight she's being resolutely silent. "Addie…" I try as I follow her into the trailer. "What's wrong?" She stops dead in her tracks and turns around, raising an eyebrow as she looks at me.

"Nothing Derek," she says flatly. "Nothing's different, so why would anything be wrong?" Well technically, everything's different. But I can't point that out without swinging the conversation straight towards Meredith. And talking about Meredith with Addison? That takes a hell of a lot of energy. Even before I slept with Mer again, those conversations were nearly impossible to get through. I don't want to think about what it'd be like now, trying to explain prom, or even just what she saw in the lobby. So I simply sigh and nod my head. If Addison doesn't want to talk tonight…I'm certainly not going to force it.

She pivots around and marches straight into the kitchen. I'm not sure exactly what she is doing in there, but she keeps slamming the cabinets, opening drawers and banging things down on the counter. I try to ignore the noise, but by the time I've changed into a pair of sweatpants, it still hasn't died down. "What are you doing?" I ask, glaring at the open cabinets as I stumble into the kitchen.

"Dinner," says Addison flatly. She looks so incredibly out of place, standing in the tiny kitchen in her designer suit and ridiculously tall heels, holding up a half of a bagel in each hand. I almost smile at the sight of her like that, but the smile fades before it reaches my lips because my mind conjures up a new image. Well, not _new_ exactly. It's an old image, a memory of Meredith sitting cross-legged on the counter, laughing as she hoarded an entire pot of coffee for herself. She never looked out of place in my kitchen. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because she's so small. She just fit perfectly into the tiny space. I don't know… Maybe it's simply because she's Meredith. I sigh and look back at Addison, trying not to remember that Meredith is probably with Finn right now.

"Dinner…" I echo quietly. The sudden mention of food reminds me that I haven't eaten since right before my four o'clock surgery. I eye the bagel she's holding hungrily, and am about to head over to the fridge, when Addison turns to study me.

"You hungry?" she asks. I give a slight nod, frowning at her confusedly. "Well sit," she snaps as she turns back towards the cabinets. Addison rarely cooks, even when she's in a good mood. The way she's been acting tonight doesn't come close to resembling a good mood. However, I sit down at the table, watching as she hoists herself up to reach the top shelf of one of the narrow cabinets. "There. Enjoy your dinner." I just blink as she slaps a bottle of scotch down on the tabletop, closely followed by a mug. A mug. She didn't even bother grabbing an actual glass.

Cute Addison, very cute.

I sigh, shaking my head as I pick up the mug. It's a deep burgundy color, with a chip on the handle exposing the white porcelain surface beneath. As I rotate the mug, I realize that she didn't simply choose it at random. It's an old anniversary gift from several years ago, one that I didn't think had made the move to Seattle. At the time, Addison had given it to me because she knew it would get me to simultaneously cringe and smile at its cheesiness. Now, I just cringe as I rotate the mug some more, revealing the fancy gold script that proclaims _"Husband of the Year!" _Well I'm glad to see my wife grasps the concept of irony.

Addison doesn't even wait for my reaction. By the time I look back up, she's already headed over to the far end of the trailer. I shrug and uncap the bottle, pouring a stream of alcohol into the mug. I alternate between staring into the dark hollow of the mug and taking long, bitter swallows, until finally the glass is drained dry. The silence from the car ride has returned, only now it feels heavy and thicker. "I'm sorry," I blurt out before I even realize I'm speaking. Addison shuffles back towards the kitchen. She's half dressed now, all loose red hair and pale skin beneath her black slip.

"What?" she asks softly, her hands on her hips. Her tone startles me. I was expecting more of the same sharp bitter Addie who'd served me scotch for dinner. But she's just standing there, leaning her head against the doorway, looking exhausted. She looks exactly how I feel.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, and her mouth opens slightly as she stares at me.

"For…" she prompts. Her voice sounds hesitant, her fingers going once again to play nervously with her ring. I sigh and look down at the table, shaking my head. I'm not sure what exactly I'm sorry for. I know things are going wrong all over the place, but they're going wrong so close to me, that I can't even begin to make out where wrong turns into right. I need a way to step back and look at things, to gain perspective. So that I can try and figure out what I should fix and what I should apologize for, and what I should just accept. The only thing is, I don't know a way to step back from my own life. Addison's still watching me expectantly though, so I shrug and say, "for the lobby." That at least I know was obviously inappropriate.

Apparently Addison was hoping for a different apology though because her expression starts to harden as soon as the words leave my lips. She straightens up, shaking her head as she glares at me.

"Seriously Derek," she shouts. "That's seriously all you're sorry for? _Seriously!_"

I blink and look up in astonishment. She sounds suddenly so much like Meredith that I find myself fighting the urge to just grab her and kiss her. I take a shaky breath, pinching the bridge of my nose, as I look away from Addison. I don't need to add screwing my wife while thinking of Meredith to the list of things I've done wrong this week.

"And you know what Derek?" she continues, her voice rising and turning bitter. "That's not even true. You've never been remotely sorry for anything that has to do with Meredith!" I risk a glance in her direction, but she's already turned and walked away, shoes smacking hard against the floor as she makes her way towards the bed.

"Addison…" I say placatingly. I can't think of anything to say besides her name, because I don't know how to deny what she said. My mind is racing, trying to come up with a reply. However, the only regret I'm coming up with that's associated with Meredith is not telling Meredith about Addison. My only regret is hurting her. I don't think Addison would be happy to hear that, but how am I supposed to regret someone who makes me feel alive? All of those clichés written on cards in the drugstores? Somehow, Meredith makes all of them true. I don't know how to not want her.

But Addison's still speaking. Well, she's still yelling actually. "What I want to know though Derek," she shouts across the trailer. "What I really want to know is…if you'll touch her like that in the middle of the freaking lobby, then what the hell have you been doing when nobody else is around?"

I look up and find myself staring straight into Addison's eyes. She's trembling visibly, but her gaze doesn't waver. She's crossed back over to lean against the table, her hair falling in her face as she looks down at me.

Something tells me this is one of those rare, ideal moments.

As in, this would be the ideal moment to finally be honest, to confess to prom or at the very least to still loving Meredith. To maybe let the word _divorce _roll off my tongue. Addison's bracing herself for it, I can see it in her eyes. But what I can also see are the silent tears that are slipping down her cheeks, one long, glistening trail winding down from each eye. She just looks so shaken. The longer we stare at each other, the more the moment slips away.

Until finally, I can't do it. I can't break her when she's looking at me like that. And so instead, I shake my head and lie. "Nothing," I say quietly. "Nothing…" She nods slowly, and that fragile, shaken look vanishes from her eyes. It's replaced with something that I think might be relief or possibly resignation.

"Nothing," she echoes. She's still eyeing me somewhat warily as she speaks. "Nothing's going on?"

"Nothing." The word rings false before it even leaves my tongue, but the moment is already gone. That means it's time to pretend again. We both smile at each other, empty smiles that don't quite make it to our eyes. Smiles that try to paint everything okay again, and pretend our argument has just been solved.

Addison nods one more time, and she seems to pull away, folding into herself. "Goodnight," she whispers, before turning abruptly and shuffling towards the bed. After a moment, she turns the light out, and the darkness seeps forward, shadowing the kitchen. I get up and toss the empty mug into the sink, but leave the bottle sitting there on the table. I can hear Addison twisting about in the bed, tugging on the blankets and struggling to get comfortable. However, as I walk towards her, her movements still. Her breathing quickly turns soft and measured. I lean against the bed, squinting to make out her face in the shadows. Her eyes are closed just a little too tightly.

"Addison," I say gently, reaching out and resting my fingers against her arm. She doesn't move at all. I know that she's pretending, but I let the accusation die unspoken on my lips. I turn from Addison, and let the words fade away to join everything else I should have said tonight, but didn't.

I can't lay down next to her. Not now, while we're both still awake. To lie there and pretend everything is fine while we both pretend to sleep…somehow, tonight that would be stretching the charade too far. So instead, I walk away from the bed and let myself outside. I sink down onto the porch steps, tilting my head back to take in the blanket of stars against the night sky. They're beautiful, but like everything else, they fail to occupy my thoughts for long. Everything always turns to Meredith, and she drifts back now into my mind. I can imagine her sprawled on her back in the grass, eyes wide as she stares at the sky. She loves the stars, and has no trouble picking out constellations that I can't even begin to see. She belongs out here.

The air is cool and clean, and I inhale it deeply as I think of her.

At least out here, all the lies have room to breathe.


	3. Chapter 3: Ask Me How I Am

_A/N - Alright, finally finished this chapter. It feels as if I've been writing it forever. It was a tricky chapter for me to write, the whole thing feels too much like filler to me. However, it is very necessary filler. Ch. 4 wouldn't work without this stuff, and Ch. 4...well, I'm excited for Ch. 4! Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review. Reviews seriously make writing this so much fun, and I'm completely flattered that you guys are enjoying the story. So, read away and please share any comments you may have!_

_----- _

_Meredith_

I've done plenty of stupid things in my life. That's pretty much a given. So, there's _a lot _of stiff competition for the title of Stupidest Thing Meredith Grey Has Ever Done. Now, last night didn't earn the title, but it definitely made it onto the Top 10 list. Actually, I think it might even be Top 5 material, which (considering that I've just recently had to adjust the list to accommodate dirty prom sex) pretty much says all that needs to be said about last night.

You see, sleep is good for surgeons. Well, sleep is good for everyone, but it's especially good for the people who cut other people open on a daily basis. Other _living _people. Living people tend to enjoy staying alive, so it helps to have a surgeon who is able to concentrate. And not be exhausted. Massive amounts of tequila followed by several hours draped over a toilet bowl, well…not so good for surgeons. And last night, which was technically this morning by the time I finally curled up on the bathroom floor, I spent a grand total of roughly fifty-two minutes sleeping. And that's a generous estimate.

Sleep deprived and hung over? Why yes, I am. However, that alone is not why last night was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. I'm usually quite good at working while sleep deprived and hung over. It's a necessary skill when the man you love turns out to have a wife, and then ends up choosing her over you. However, I said I am _usually_ good at it. Usually. Apparently, usually doesn't include today because I am actually sitting on the floor at work. Not in the locker room or a gallery, or anywhere that might come close to making sense. No, I'm actually sitting on the floor of the elevator, curled up in a ball with my head pressed against my knees.

And that? Is stupid.

I don't remember why I sat down on the floor in the first place, but I know I really should get up already. The elevators in this hospital tend to work like magnets, drawing everyone I absolutely don't want to see towards me. And the list of people I don't want to see while I'm sitting on the floor with my head in my hands includes just about everyone who works here.

I really am going to get up. It can't be that hard, I just need to straighten my legs. Somehow manage to stand.

Or…I could just sit like this for a little bit longer. Just for one more floor. Honestly, I don't see the point in wasting the effort on trying to look presentable when the elevator is still perfectly empty. I reach around, moaning as I rub the back of my aching neck. Stupid, stupid tequila. Yeah…I'm just going to stay like this for a little bit longer. Maybe just until I get to my floor.

Or, you know, until the elevator doors spring unexpectedly apart and I realize just why I really should have stood up two floors ago. I groan, tilting my head to the side to get a glimpse of who is stepping through the open doors.

Red hair, three inch heels, ridiculously long legs. Yep, pretty much the last person I could possibly want to see.

She's standing there all absolutely perfect looking (as usual) and I'm huddled over on the floor, looking like the visual depiction of just how scary and damaged I am inside. If only Finn could see me now. Maybe he would finally get it. Maybe then, he would cancel our dinner plans and I could spend tonight curled up in a little ball, trying to ignore the constant throbbing in my head. Because seriously, right now that sounds like a lot more fun then spaghetti, or chicken-something-or-other, or whatever it was he promised to cook for me tonight.

Addison clears her throat. "Dr. Grey," she begins, a polite frown on her face. "Are you alright?" I blink and start to stammer a reply. The elevator doors have closed again, and somehow I'm still sitting on the floor. (See, this moment right now is why last night makes it onto the list.)

"Yes…" I manage to say as I leap to my feet. Whoa…standing up fast was not a good idea. I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from slipping straight back down, as I remember just why I was sitting on the floor in the first place.

Pain. And lots of it.

A rushing wave of dizziness pours over me, and I know my fingers are clutching obviously at the railing that runs halfway down the wall, but I can't help it. I'm trying not to fall over here. I squint, struggling to focus, but the elevator is growing painfully bright. What the hell is wrong with the light bulbs? I blink several times, rubbing a hand across my aching bleary eyes, as I try to protect them from the excess light. I don't know why Addison doesn't seem to be bothered by it. I mean, seriously, the room is growing so bright that I can't even make out the walls anymore. Everything is just white. The maintenance people really need to do something about the damn light bulbs because the elevator doesn't even look like an elevator anymore. The light is so blindingly white that everything around me has just gone blank.

"_Meredith." _

This is bad. Empty blank whiteness and knees that really feel like they're about to buckle. Yeah, this is seriously bad. I hope the floor still exists somewhere down there.

"_Meredith…" _

That's my name. I think someone's saying my name. Someone might also have their hand on my shoulder but I'm not sure. I don't know how they could see through all the white in here to find it. "Meredith," insists the voice. Yep, someone's definitely saying my name.

I blink again, and suddenly the light starts to dim. I can see a vague shape standing in front of me, and as I focus on it, normal colors come rushing back until suddenly I'm standing on the elevator again, with Addison frowning at me as she grips my arm. Addison. Right…she got on the elevator. How did I manage to forget about that?

"Are you sure?" I hear Addison ask. I just stare at her blankly. Am I sure of what? A minute ago, the elevator turned abnormally bright and I could barely keep from falling down. That makes me pretty certain that if it weren't for the fact that the I'm pressed up against the wall of the elevator, I'd already be laying flat on my back on the floor. So no, right now I'm not too sure of anything.

But I can't tell Addison that.

Surgical interns generally don't want their attending to know when they've just spent the night trying (and nearly succeeding) to drink Joe out of business on an empty stomach, and then used up the remainder of the evening throwing up into a toilet instead of sleeping. And when said attending is the wife of the man the intern just had dirty prom sex with? Well then, the feeling is only intensified. So instead, I just smile awkwardly at Addison. The splintering feeling in my head seems to be dulling slightly, but I still feel sore, exhausted and unbelievably thirsty. Seriously, my throat feels as if it's been lined with sandpaper. I wonder if it would be inappropriate to ask Addison for a sip of the coffee she's holding? Probably…but no worse then sleeping with her husband at the prom. I shouldn't mention that though. I should just keep my mouth shut. Maybe try and figure out if I can stand without the support of the wall behind me.

"Meredith?"

"What? Huh?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks slowly, her voice sounding very skeptical. Crap. I still have to answer her. Well, I guess I'm okay. I'm standing up on my own now, that's got to be a good sign.

"Yeah, of course," I say quickly. "Thanks, I was…umm, I was just thinking. Lost in thought and all that…" I shrug, giving her what I hope looks like a bright and casual smile. I'm sure it doesn't though. I think it's much more of an I'm-not-okay-I-almost-fainted-oh-and-I-screwed-your-husband type grimace. I should be mortified. I think I am. It was hard to tell before, what with all the blanking out and head-splitting pain. But now, that's all fading to a nice dull ache, and yep…I'm definitely feeling mortified here. Mortified and guilty. Damn…why couldn't it be Cristina in the elevator with me? Or George? Or even Alex actually?

I suppose this is what I get for cheating on Finn with Derek. Total humiliation in an elevator next to his perfect wife. She seriously is perfect. I really have no idea what Derek sees in me when he's already married to a woman who can pull of _that_ skirt.

"Right," says Addison. Great…judging by her narrowed eyes and suddenly icy tone, she's just caught me staring at her.

I look away quickly, focusing on the lights above the door. One more floor to go and then I can get off, which is a very good thing because the silence is starting to get rather strained in here. If only I wasn't such a dirty mistress. Addison and I used to be _almost _friends, and now we're acting like strangers, and both staring very deliberately straight ahead. I'm starting to think that actually fainting might have been less awkward then this. I wonder if she even knows what happened with Derek and I…she's got to realize that something's different. That everything has changed…

But before I can do anything else incredibly stupid (like ask her if she knows) the elevator doors slide open. I would like to say that I walk calmly out of the elevator and down the hall. However, what I really do is stagger from the elevator over to the nurses' station, so that I can lean against the counter until my head once again stops spinning. Now if I could just find where they hide all the water in this hospital, I could drink it and hopefully cure the horrible sandpapery feeling in my throat. And then, maybe lay down in an on-call room for a quick little nap.

"Grey!" Or, you know, look up and see what Bailey wants. "What took you so long?" she asks as she and two ER nurses wheel a gurney down the hall. Right…that's why I'm down here. Bailey paged me. I shake my head and straighten up hesitantly. Thankfully the room isn't fading to white this time.

"Sorry," I stammer, walking over towards the gurney.

"One week out of the OR and already my interns are forgetting that we _hustle _for trauma pages. Emergency surgery means immediate surgery Grey, not surgery when you finally feel it's convenient to put down your latte!" I just nod my head and take hold of the gurney. Headaches and sudden rushes of dizziness be damned, I know better then to argue with Bailey when I'm staring straight at my first opportunity to scrub in in a week. _A week. _That's seven days of taking patient histories and filling out post-op notes for procedures I never got to see. Seven days of delivering labs and suturing down in the pit. Seven freaking days, and right now, I'm finally staring straight down at a ruptured spleen. "Get this man over to OR 3 a little quicker then you got yourself down here, and then go scrub in," continues Bailey, as she walks away to scrub in for the surgery herself.

"Of course. Thank you Dr. Bailey!" I call to her retreating back. I hear her mutter something about her suckups as I turn my attention to the gurney. It's hard to describe just how happy I am, but trust me, I'm very happy. Because, well…it's surgery. This is seriously what I need right now. I may not show the same ruthless delight as Cristina over cutting people open, but I _am _a surgeon. And so was my mother. I guess that means the thrill of it is in my blood. But, most importantly, I get to escape the mess of my own life for a little while, and go fix someone else's problems. I don't have to think about how I'm messing with the Shepherds' marriage, or how I was actually sitting down in the elevator when Addison got on. I wonder if she would have just left me on the ground if I'd gone ahead and fainted? Probably not, because she's painfully nice. Seriously, her goal seems to be to make it impossible for me to hate her. It's good though…makes the guilt that much more poignant. But I'm about to forget all of that for a few hours, right along with the fact that even though I made dinner plans with Finn tonight, my body would much prefer them to be with Derek. Thank god this is Bailey's surgery and not Derek's or Addison's though, because then all that sweet forgetfulness would not be about to happen.

"Dr. Grey?"

"Huh?" I shake my head, looking up in surprise. The nurses are staring at me, looking very confused. Well good, because I'm confused too. At least we're all confused together here. Seriously, why are they staring at me?

"Are you waiting for something Dr. Grey?" asks the nurse, her voice tinged with irritation. I look down, realizing the gurney isn't moving. Crap. I did it again. I need to focus, and that would be a lot easier to do if the room didn't keep wavering.

"Yes, of course," I say quickly, tightening my grip on the back of the gurney. I lean heavily on it to help balance out the weakening feeling in my knees, as I head us towards the OR. I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally relinquish the patient to the scrub nurses, and move away to bathe my hands in soap and water. There's nothing like a good surgery to cure an unbelievably hellish hangover.

At least, that's what I've always thought.

And for a good hour, that proved to be true. Apparently, it's not true any longer though, because I'm once again ridiculously thirsty. I struggle to lick my lips, and at least ease some of the dry cracked feeling, but end up just getting an unwelcome taste of the mask tied over my face. I start to gag at the sterile papery flavor filling my mouth, but quickly turn it into a cough.

"Grey retract here," says Bailey, looking up to raise an eyebrow at my coughing. I stifle the sound and nod, moving forward to reach into the body cavity. The retractor seems to have grown much heavier since last week, because I can't remember a time that retracting felt this difficult before. Maybe the Chief spent the past week updating his surgical supplies with newer, heavier equipment, and I just didn't hear about it because I was banned from the OR. Although…I don't know why he decided to go with continually wavering operating tables. I think the old, stationary ones were much better. It's hard to retract when things keep moving.

"Grey have you forgotten how to retract?" Bailey's voice sounds far away, fading in and out. Of course I haven't forgotten how to retract. "Grey!" insists Bailey, annoyance seeping through even as everything else seems to be fading away. I think it's because of all these clothes. They're just making me too hot, covering me in a horrible prickling heat that is somehow bursting into points of color before my eyes. The room lurches suddenly beneath my feet, and I stumble forward, bumping into the person next to me. "Emily, take over for Dr. Grey." One of the scrub nurses steps around me, reaching in to take hold of the retractor.

"Uh…" I stammer, opening my mouth to protest. I'm the surgical intern here after all, not her. But before I can think of a decent reply, I shiver and the words die on my lips. _The room just won't stop spinning._

"Meredith Grey!"

"Yes," I hear a voice answer. It sounds weak and shaky, very far away. There's no way that's my voice.

"What's wrong Grey?"

BaileyI think that's her voice. It's equally faint and distant, but it's not trembling like the other one was. I turn my head towards the sound, trying to focus on the short blurred shape.

"Uh…sorry…I…" More of that gasping, tremulous voice.

"Johnson, help Dr. Grey sit down." And then a strong, steadying hand around my arm. Somehow, I'm moving, stumbling through a heavily darkening blur. My legs are shaking with every step, but the hand on my arm doesn't let me collapse. It just guides me safely away from the confusing hum of noise and motion.

I wonder if that's Derek's hand guiding me?

I wish it were. But no…it can't be. He would know to carry me now. He would know to hold me. He wouldn't take his hand away, leaving me with nothing but the cold uncomfortable pressure of a bench to keep me from falling down. Stupid hand. Stupid bench. I shudder, feeling suddenly cold and afraid as everything starts to fade.

_I wish he were here._

I try to force my lips to say his name, but they don't want to move.

_Derek… _

The need for him is barely a whisper in my mind. Everything is just fading away from me. Falling away, lurching away, and slowly going black.

_Derek_

"Alright, get an EEG and then take Mrs. Mason down to CT," I say to George as I close the door to the patient's room, leading us back out into the hallway.

"Yes, Dr. Shepherd," replies George. I can hear him hesitate, making a soft humming noise in his throat before asking, "Do you think surgery is the best option for her?"

I start to mumble a vague reply, already distracted by going over the patient's chart once more, but something in his tone causes my head to lift back up. His question is far from abnormal, just a standard question from a curious intern, but something about it sounds too strained.

"Well there are less invasive ways to treat seizure disorders," I agree. "But I really won't be able to tell either way without the EEG." George nods as if reassured, but as he does, I zero in on just what has been bothering me all morning. There's a dark worried look in his eyes, and it doesn't disappear with my reply. Still, he picks up on the hint about the EEG, and moves to walk away. "How is Dr. Stevens?" I call before he gets far, not quite sure what prompts me to inquire. George turns back around, the worried look in his eyes deepening, and I realize the concern I was picking up on wasn't for Mrs. Mason after all. It was simply overflow from his own life.

"She's…well, she's doing the best she can," he says softly, shrugging his shoulders. "At least, I hope she is. It's hard on her," he stammers, frowning as he speaks. "She really loved him."

"Right…" I don't really know what to say, so I simply nod my head.

I always find it hard to think of Bailey's interns in terms of anything other then how they relate to Meredith, and I can't help but wonder how she's dealing with the fact that all of them seem to be cracking. As if she doesn't have enough going on already. "And how's Meredith?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"Umm…" George says, his frown instently intensifying. "She's fine I guess. But apparently she's gone back to being Meredith again." He sounds either annoyed or disappointed over Meredith's apparent return to being herself, only I don't know him well enough to distinguish which it is. Perhaps it's some combination of the two.

"Right," I say again, despite being completely confused by his answer. She's always been Meredith. I don't know how she can return to being herself. "Keep an eye on them, Dr. O'Malley," I add as I turn and walk away down the hall. He mutters something in agreement, but he sounds more as if he's struggling to reassure himself rather then me, so I just keep walking.

I float through the day, my attention mostly caught up with my patients, but not quite. There's a frustrating little sliver in the back of my mind that refuses to think about anything but Meredith. And as I round a corner, returning from lunch to come face to face with Addison, that little sliver catapults to the forefront of my thoughts.

I haven't spoken to Addison since last night. I'd woken up early, heading for the hospital before she'd even gotten out of bed, the two of us taking separate cars to work. It's easier that way. A heavy, forced calm (largely accomplished through avoidance) is pretty much the standard way we've been dealing with the aftermath of arguments in Seattle.

"Derek," she says flatly, taking my arm. Alright, perhaps it's just the way that I've been dealing with our arguments, because Addison suddenly seems very intent on talking. She drags me into the doorway of an empty room before I even have the chance to reply. "Something's wrong with your intern," she continues, her blue eyes looking curiously pained.

"What?" I ask, frowning at her. Now, George O'Malley's natural talent may lie in cardio-thoracics and not neurosurgery. However, after months as an intern, I don't expect him to have any trouble getting a patient through a CT. "O'Malley's having a problem with Mrs. Mason?" I say incredulously. "I think he would have paged me if that was true Addie. I'm sure everything's fine." I shrug and turn to walk away, but Addison reaches out and stops me.

"No, not O'Malley. _Your _intern," she insists, her voice growing suddenly cold as she pronounces each word slowly and deliberately. My intern? My_….Meredith? _

"Meredith…" I say, turning back around to look at my wife. She frowns, folding her arms over her chest, but not disagreeing with me. I know I should refute the claim that Meredith's my intern, but if something's wrong with Meredith? As if there could be a choice other then to ask what… "What do you mean something's wrong with Meredith?"

"I don't know," says Addison, shrugging infuriatingly. "She was acting very strange." I smile to myself at this. Meredith can definitely pull of strange when the desire to takes her.

"She can be a little strange," I allow. "I'm sure she's fine. Big of you to worry though," I add, unable to keep myself from grinning a little at Addison.

"Well we're all friends." My grin falters at this, rapidly transforming into a puzzled frown. I thought it was pretty clear that we had all stopped being friends. "You said so yourself…that there's nothing going on," continues Addison, her voice suddenly hesitant.

"Right." _Wrong. _"Of course, nothing's…"

"Then, we're all still friends," she interrupts, her voice growing a bit more confident. "And friends worry when their friends start acting strangely."

"Right. I'm sure she's fine," I repeat, as Addison gives me a curious half smile. The soft twist of her lip feels curiously reminiscent of a month ago, when everything was nothing save denial and _trying _and quick stolen glances at Meredith that I pretended didn't take place.

"Okay," agrees Addison, her voice lightening noticeably, as if my answer has just absolved her of something that had been weighing heavily on her shoulders. "Well…I have patients to check on. I'll see you this evening Derek?" I nod, frowning slightly as she leans in towards me. Her lips brush lightly against my cheek, and I can feel her eyes searching her face.

Our eyes lock for a long moment, and I fight back a frustrated sigh, hoping that she's not going to suddenly change her mind and try to push the matter of Meredith and our marriage right now. I still need time to recover from last night's argument. I still need time to figure things out. But she just nods, the look in her eyes causing the constant guilty feeling in my stomach to tighten and cry out, demanding attention. Still…I stay silent, distracting myself with a patient's file, as she turns and walks away down the hall.

I mean to keep looking over the file in my hands. I mean to make my way over to the elevator, to check on some of my post-op patients. What I don't mean to do is stop the nearest nurse, and demand that she page Dr. Grey for me. However, that is exactly what I do.

"Dr. Grey?" echoes the nurse, seeming startled by my sudden request. "I'm…I'm sorry, I'm new," she stammers, backing away from me. "One second, I'll get someone to." Before I can reply, she hurries over to the nurses' station, leaning forward to speak to the charge nurse. The group of woman behind the desk turn to look at me, knowing expressions simultaneously appearing on all of their faces. I frown, trying to ignore the sudden flurry of conversation my request has just caused.

"She won't answer," calls one of the nurses loudly, not even bothering to hide a smirk as she looks up at me. She won't answer? Who are they to say she won't answer me?

"What?" I say gruffly, quickly growing irritated with all the _giggling_. "Of course she'll answer."

"No she won't," repeats the nurse confidently. My mind starts racing, trying to figure out just how the hospital nursing staff has already figured out why Meredith might have reason to ignore me. Unable to come up with anything, I finally give in.

"Why's that?" I ask.

"She's assisting Dr. Bailey. OR 3," says the nurse simply, her eyes laughing at me, obviously aware of the history between the two of us.

"Oh…" I feel a sudden rush of relief at her answer. "Thank you."

I turn away, glancing at my watch. I've still got an half hour until my next surgery is scheduled. After Addison's comment, the desire to simply see Meredith is overpowering. I take the stairs two at a time, slipping into the gallery. It's empty up here save for a few eager medical students, huddled together in the front row of seats. They glance nervously at me as I walk in, but I head down to lean against the pane of glass, and their hushed conversation quickly starts up again.

I scan the OR floor, my eyes searching for Meredith. Only, I can't see her. Everyone is dressed in uniform surgical blue, their faces obscured, but still…I should be able to recognize Meredith. She's slight, not as tall as most, always easy for me to pick out. But she's just not there. I'm about to give up and go get a nurse to page her after all, when finally I see her. She's not with the rest of the surgical team positioned around the operating table, but rather seated off in a corner on a small bench. I smile curiously down at her…Addison was right, she is acting strange. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she's glaring daggers at the retreating back of one of the surgical techs.

"I still can't believe she dropped it," I hear one of the voices behind me whisper. "I mean, I thought the goal was to impress your resident, not piss her off."

"She didn't just drop it. She practically fell over!"

"Hmmm…maybe they'll let me go take her place down there," continues the first voice eagerly, and at this my attention is piqued, and I'm unable to simply watch the surgery. I stare at Meredith, listening to the conversation behind me.

"Doubtful, you don't even know how to suture yet. Now me, on the other hand…"

The reply is dripping with the same constant competitiveness I remember from medical school, but it's something else about their conversation that turns me around to face the group of students. Something is falling into place in my mind, and I open my mouth to speak, unable to push away the sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Who?" I ask abruptly.

"Who?" echoes a medical student, allowing me to place the face of a petite, dark-haired girl with the first voice I'd been hearing.

"Who are you talking about?" I insist, my voice filling with urgency.

"Umm…that girl over there," she stammers, pointing downward. "I, I think her name is Grey." Of course it would be Meredith. I frown worriedly as I return my attention to the window, but as my eyes focus on Meredith, my heart lurches within my chest.

"Oh my god," gasps a voice behind me. "What just happened to her?"

But the sound barely registers in my mind. All I'm aware of is Meredith's body, falling forward to slump small and lifeless against the bare floor of the OR.

-----

_A/N 2 - A quick second comment because I feel like such a horrible Mer/Der writer, keeping Meredith and Derek apart for two whole chapters. I'm **sorry**, it's just the way things had to happen. (But I feel awful and evil for doing it!) Anyway, I promise that the next chapter is going to center largely around Mer/Der interaction...which is exactly why I'm so excited to write it, lol. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!_


	4. Chapter 4: Someone Broken

_A/N - I'm going to try to update this story as much as possible this week because next week I have to go back to school. And so, while I'll definitely keep writing, I might only be able to update a few times a week as opposed to every other day or so. Anyway, here's chapter 4, one of the ones I've been very excited to write. Because it has Mer/Der actually interacting and it has Bailey, and both those things make me happy. Derek's section is a lot shorter then Meredith's in this chapter because there was simply more I wanted to cover with her, however it should be back to a more equal division next chapter. Alright, that's enough of my rambling. Just want to say thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, each one makes me smile and completely makes my day. So please, read away and review!_

_----- _

_Meredith_

Sound returns first, finding it's way through to me. To where I am, to wherever _here _is…I don't know exactly where that is. It's someplace strange, like the middle of a fog, soft and heavy and sleep-filled. It's simply here and somehow sound finds its way in, disturbing the cocoon of peace and silence with a steady _beep…beep…beep. _I've heard that sound before, I think I hear it every day. But I don't know what it is… And so I just lay still, listening as the silence is continually broken into even beats, until finally I know. I _know_ that sound. It's the constant rhythmic beeping of a monitor. I'm in the hospital. And with that knowledge, the fog starts to dissapate and there is more to _here_ then silence and beeping. There's the gentle steady sound of someone breathing, and the vague hum of voices and footsteps in the distance. But most importantly there is the sense of indescribable, overwhelming safety. And this isn't something that I hear, but something that I feel. I wiggle the fingers of my right hand, as I realize what it is, where the feeling is coming from. My hand is clasped tightly with another hand, a hand that isn't my own. Someone's fingers are laced together with mine. I tighten my grip, and the other hand tightens it's in response. As it does, the last of the fog fades away.

"Mmm…" I moan, shifting and struggling to open my eyes. They feel heavy and tired, but after a moment they open slightly. I was right, I'm in the hospital. The room is too white and glowing with light to be anywhere else. "Umm," I say quietly, not wanting to turn my head and find the owner of the hand that's clasped in mine. I have a good idea of whose it is. But incase I'm wrong, incase it's not, I don't want to know. I want to be able to lie here and pretend it's _his_ hand.

"Mer?" I sigh as he speaks, my eyes fluttering all the way open. I'm pretty sure I'm grinning. I can't help it. I don't have to pretend, because that's his voice. Which means…it's his hand in mine. It's _him_. "You're awake," he says softly, and I nod as I finally turn my head to look at him.

"Derek," I say quietly, my voice not much above a whisper. He's sitting next to me, dressed in a pair of scrubs. His dark hair is messy and he's leaning forward onto the bed, his hand closely locked with mine. He nods at the sound of my voice, his face melting into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle up at the corners. I love it when his eyes crinkle like that. I'd reach out and trace the little lines if it didn't mean that I'd have to let go of his hand. (And if it wouldn't make me seem just a little bit crazy.)

"You're awake," he repeats a little louder then before, sounding absolutely delighted over the fact that I'm conscious. I smile again, because Derek just looks so happy that I can't help but feel that smiling and grinning and staring at each other are the only possible things for us to be doing right now.

"So are you," I say, smirking slightly. He laughs at this, ducking his head down in a short nod that is full of his smile and eyes that are even more crinkled then before. I sigh happily, moving to sit up. As I struggle to loosen the sheets that have me practically trapped in place, Derek leans forward. His arm loops around me, making quick work of the sheets, and suddenly I'm sitting upright, pressed against pillows and Derek's chest. I'm pretty sure that this is a hell of a lot different then our last interaction, and that resting my head against his shoulder is probably not what I'm supposed to be doing right now. I'm probably supposed to be pushing him away, or saying something angry or, at the very least, something a little less intimate then a whispered version of his name.

But I can't seem to care. Even though I'm awake, all of the details haven't yet filtered through from the fog. Here is simply _here_, and free from everything else that isn't in this room at this moment. And right now, I'm failing to see much of anything other then Derek. (This explanation is probably not going to fly in another hour or so, but seriously…why fight it right now?) Why fight it when Derek's hands are tracing circles down my back, slow gentle circles that make me shiver and lean in closer to him… Actually, I think even if I waged an all out war right now, I still wouldn't be able to fight it. He's too close to me, every curve of our bodies fitting precisely together. And so (even though I know it's a stupid thing to do) I lift my head and tilt it upward, looking into the one place I'm sure I should not look. _His eyes. _Because his eyes are dark and smoky and painfully blue. As soon as his gaze locks with mine, the feeling starts up…that irresistible feeling that I've never quite learned to fight when it comes to Derek. It's the one that makes me stop breathing, that slips an invisible hook deep into my stomach and reels me in, dizzy and desperate to be with him.

We seem to be moving in slow motion, inching closer and closer to each other. Until finally…there is no space left. The little nagging voice in the back of my mind (the one that likes to point out that Derek is an inappropriate man) just curls up and dies, because he's kissing me. He's kissing me, and I'm kissing him back as his hands cup my face, holding me close to him. It's a tangle that is soft and sweet and safe, and yet somehow so much more. It makes me _ache_.

Finally I pull away, because by this point it's either pull away or pull off his scrubs. And the fog has been gone long enough for me to realize that no - that would be bad. Seriously bad. I sigh as I reluctantly settle back against the pillows, my body feeling suddenly cold now that it's not against his. Derek smiles as he fiddles with a loose strand of my hair, and I run my tongue over my swollen lips as I catch sight of the IV inserted into my arm. I had forgotten that I was here for a reason, because well…Derek. He makes me forget everything that isn't him. But I'm in a hospital bed and there's an IV in my arm, so there's definitely a reason. I stare at the IV, frowning as I start to remember.

My horrible, horrible hangover. Bailey, the operating room, the ruptured spleen. And feeling so dizzy that I couldn't even remember how to stand.

I turn back to Derek. I can tell he's already sensed the change in my mood because he's just sitting there quietly, his expression calm as he watches me. "What happened?" I ask hesitantly.

"You fainted."

"I fainted," I echo, my frown deepening. I fight the urge to roll my eyes because seriously, I'm a doctor here. I gathered as much as that. "No…_why_ Derek? Am I alright?"

He grins again, as if amused by the annoyance in my voice. "You're going to be fine Mer," he says simply. I smile at his words, instantly feeling much less worried. I've worked with Derek for how many months now? I know all of his doctor voices, and that one he just used right there, that one is a good one. It means there are no hidden catches, there are no other shoes waiting to drop. It's simply good news. I'm simply going to be fine. Still he looks frustratingly smug, sitting there all full of medical knowledge while I know nothing other then "fine."

"You are useless," I say, making a face at him. I lean forward and stretch a hand out towards the foot of my bed. "Gimme my chart," I demand.

"Nope," he says at once.

"No?"

"No."

"What the…you're not gonna…_no_? Seriously Derek?"

"Seriously Meredith." He nods, giving me the I'm-charming-and-I-know-you-want-me smirk, complete with dimples and raised eyebrows. I sigh in frustration, falling back against the pillows. He just keeps grinning at me maddeningly.

"And why not?"

"Because…"

"Because? That's all the explanation you think you need to give me?" I ask, glowering at him. "Derek Shepherd, you'd better elaborate."

"Because," he continues, still looking unbelievably amused as he shifts to sit down on the bed next to me. "It's making you annoyed." I nod at this, crossing my arms over my chest. "And…you pout when you're annoyed."

"I pout?"

"You pout," he agrees. "And…" He's speaking slowly, almost leisurely, leaning closer to me with each word. "You're cute when you pout." He reaches out, one of his fingers tracing the line of my lower lip.

"Oh…" I gasp, but the sound is lost, captured within his mouth. And, _wow_…how did we end up back like this so soon? Suddenly everything is warm and urgent, sliding with teeth and tongues, hands quickly moving to places that are hardly work appropriate. As if any of this is work appropriate. (Or even just plain appropriate.) But somehow, I'm pretty sure that his hand under my gown, sliding up my stomach and onto my breast is even worse then the two of us just kissing.

Still…_oh my god_…there are seriously good things about backless gowns afterall.

I arch into Derek's hand, pulling him closer to me as my hand drifts down, finding the tie to his scrub pants and pulling it undone. And I know this is wrong, every possible kind of wrong, but…I've had a horrible day. I was hungover and I fainted, and spent the rest of the time unconscious. So, is it that hard to understand that right now I just need something that feels good?

Okay…it probably is that hard to understand.

I'd love to try and rationalize a more believeable excuse, or (even better) convince myself to stop before we actually have sex in a hospital bed. But Derek's tongue is deep inside my mouth and both his hands are under my clothes, so I'm having _a lot _of difficulty thinking clearly. You know…I think I'm just going to go with it. Be flexible. See what happens.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Okay…I did not expect _that_ to happen.

Derek and I pull apart, my face flushing so hard and fast that it's almost painful. I push my hair out of my eyes, looking up to focus on the figure in the doorway, and my shock turns instantly into relief. The person standing there is just about the _only _person I can deal with seeing this. "Cristina!" I hiss as I scoot back into the far corner of the bed, pulling my blanket all the way up to my chin.

"Seriously," she says, smirking as she backs immediately out the open doorway. "Nice neuro consult you're doing there."

The door slams shut and I start to breathe a sigh of relief, but the sigh doesn't even make it past my lips before I hear a second voice coming from beyond the closed door. "Neuro consult? Yang, I didn't order a neuro consult." And that voice, well that voice causes me to turn and look at Derek with what I'm sure can only be described as a look of pure horror on my face. Because…Bailey. _Bailey._ Doctor Bailey, my boss, is standing just outside of my room. The blinds are closed, why oh why couldn't the door have been locked as well? I reach up and try to smooth my hair with one hand while struggling to put my gown back in place with the other. I seriously wish curling up into a ball and hiding beneath the covers was an option because I'm sure that as soon as that door opens (and oh it will open) things are going to get seriously awkward in here. Derek slumps down into the chair beside my bed, and I almost smirk as I catch him quickly buttoning his lab coat. However, I don't actually smirk, because _now_ I suddenly have plenty of self control. Hell of a lot of good that does me.

"This is bad…" I hiss, looking desperately at Derek as the door to my room swings open again. Bailey walks in, followed closely by Cristina, who is looking like Christmas just came early. Actually…no, Cristina doesn't like Christmas. Her look is more like the one she gets when she's assigned to a particularly good surgery. Either way, she's standing there all amused, with raised eyebrows and barely concealed laughter, while Bailey glances back and forth between Derek and I, her eyes narrowing skeptically.

"What is going on in here?" she asks, her hands on her hips.

"Umm…we…nothing…" I start to stammer. I seem to have forgotten how to speak in proper English, but that's not surprising because I can feel Bailey's eyes practically burning holes in my flesh. I turn my gaze from the doorway, staring fixedly down at my hands and wishing that they would all just go away. Because suddenly, this room isn't just _here_ anymore. It's been pulled back into reality and it's not just us in here, it's no longer just Derek and Meredith. It's the adulterer and his dirty mistress whore. His _cheating _whore because seriously, I have plans with Finn. Plans with him tonight. I groan and close my eyes, shaking my head slightly. I'm supposed to be angry at Derek, I'm supposed to be not speaking to him. I'm not supposed to be almost having sex with him while I'm still hooked up to a freaking IV.

"Did I call for a neuro consult?" asks Bailey when the only answer she gets is my stammered non-answer. My eyes flutter open again and I cringe because no, I'm one hundred percent sure that she did not ask for a neuro consult.

"Umm…" I begin, but Bailey holds up a hand and I promptly stop speaking.

"Did I call for a neuro consult, Dr. Shepherd?" she repeats pointedly, turning to look at Derek. I glance over at him as well. I don't know how he's managing it, but somehow he looks guilt-free and not even the slightest bit startled. In fact, he almost looks as amused as Cristina.

"Well she did fall," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "She might have hurt her head. I should probably check her out…you know, examine things." Cristina snorts at this, but quickly turns the sound into a cough. And_…oh god…oh god…oh god_… Did he seriously just say that? I cannot believe Derek said that. He's actually teasing and grinning and looking charming while Bailey is standing right there, at the foot of my _very _rumpled bed. I cannot believe it. This must be what dying feels like.

But Bailey just scoffs. "She was sitting down when she collapsed. Her head is fine. Girl's dehydrated, not brain damaged! Now you on the other hand, you I'm not so sure about."

"I'm not brain damaged," says Derek slightly defensively.

"You are if you think there's any way I'm letting you examine her."

"Fine, I'm just in here visiting then." Derek glances over at me before turning back to smile smugly at Bailey. "Meredith and I are friends, you know."

"I'm sure," says Bailey, shaking her head and sounding completely unconvinced. "Now, out."

"Out?" echoes Derek. He frowns, looking very confused.

"Yes, out - as in get up, leave, vacate the area."

"But…" begins Derek, but Bailey interrupts him immediately.

"You said so yourself, you're here as a visitor not a doctor. And Meredith needs her rest right now, so _as her doctor_, I'm telling her visitor to get out!" Derek frowns again, but straightens up.

"So bossy," he says lightly, shaking his head as he moves past her. Bailey just raises an eyebrow and stares pointedly at the door. "Feel better Mer," he adds with a smile before walking out. I nod and close my eyes, sighing when I finally hear the door close.

"Yang, you can go to. I need to speak with Meredith." My eyes fly open immediately at this, and I turn to look desperately at Cristina.

"Oh no…Dr. Bailey. She can stay! Cristina can stay, I don't mind at all."

"I don't mind to stay," volunteers Cristina eagerly.

"No. Cristina can't stay. I'm now down not one, but two interns," says Bailey to me, and I offer up a guilty apologetic smile. Seriously, I do feel bad for Cristina and George and Alex, and the sheer amount of work that's probably piling up for them. However, none of them are about to be trapped alone in a room with Bailey, and I think the mountain of work actually sounds more enjoyable. "Why are you still standing here?" continues Bailey, as she turns her attention to Cristina. "Go on!" Cristina lingers for another second, glancing back at me, before nodding and leaving the room as well.

I shuffle uncomfortably in the bed, wishing that the room hadn't suddenly turned so obviously silent and empty. I'm bigger then Bailey, but somehow she seems to be towering over me. It must be because I'm practically laying down, but I just feel so…small. I bite my lip, bracing myself for whatever she's going to say, however Bailey just sighs and sits down in the chair Derek had vacated. "How are you feeling Grey?" she asks, and I look up at her in surprise. Her voice has turned several shades gentler then it was moments before. The sudden kindness in her tone catches me off guard, and before I realize it, I'm laying back against the pillows and contemplating her question. I feel tired, as if I could drift back to slip right now without any effort at all. My head still hurts, but nowhere near as badly as before. Mostly I'm just tired. I tell her and she simply listens, nodding her head occasionaly.

"Why did I faint though?" I ask when I finish, propping myself up on my elbow. "Der…Dr. Shepherd didn't get to that part." I flinch as I almost call Derek by his first name (my mind flashing back to just what we'd been doing), and I catch Bailey furrowing her eyebrows.

However, she skips right over my mention of Derek, simply saying, "You were dehydrated."

"Oh…right," I say, realizing that she'd already said that. I'd simply been too caught up in what was happening between Bailey and Derek for it to register. "Dehydrated," I echo, nodding my head and feeling suddenly guilty.

"Yes. Any idea what caused you to become dehydrated?"

"Umm…" I say slowly, avoiding Bailey's eyes. Why yes, I have a pretty excellent idea of just what caused me to become dehydrated. However, it's not something that I want Bailey, of all people, to know.

"Grey, you're a doctor," she continues, her voice returning to its usual, straightforward tone. "You know what causes dehydration. Any number of infectious diseases and survival situations." She cocks her head towards me, a smug look on her face that just screams that she knows that I know what I did. "Shock, blood loss, hyponatremia, vomiting, hypotension, fasting, excessive drinking…any of those ringing any bells?" she continues. I shrug, staring down at the blanket. Why do I have the feeling that she's not going to buy the idea that I simply forgot to drink any water?

"Umm…" I say again, my cheeks flushing. Leave it to me to actually become dehydrated thanks to _drinking_. "No?" I try hesitantly, glancing over at Bailey. "No idea?" She's silent for a moment, just leaving me sitting here, staring at my blanket.

I hear her sigh and she says, "Right now I'm not your boss, okay? I'm your doctor. Now were you just being stupid or should I worry about your health here Grey?" I really would like to just keep staring at my blanket in silence, but that's not an option. She's Bailey, and it's not good (or sane, or even remotely possible) to ignore Bailey for long once she's asked you a question.

"Stupid," I finally say, my voice coming out very thin and small. "Definitely being stupid." I glance anxiously up at Bailey, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks serious, but not exactly angry. I really hope she'll be satisfied with that explanation and not make me admitt just how many shots I had at Joe's or how many hours I spent throwing up last night.

"Fine. If you're certain," she says, not sounding even slightly surprised by my answer.

"I'm certain," I say glumly as I tug absently on the edge of the blanket. (Today is _not_ a good day.)

"Meredith," she continues, her voice dipping back into the strangely gentle tone she'd first used when Cristina and Derek left. I nod hesitantly, looking up at her. She never calls me Meredith. "You want to tell me what's really going on here?" I blink in astonishment, just staring at her. "You want to tell me just what Shepherd was doing in your room?" At this point, I'm pretty sure that my mouth is hanging open and I'm gaping at her like a fish. Because wow, talk about catching me off guard. I was not expecting her to bring _that_ up, at least not now, after we'd already made it safely into medical talk.

For a moment, I almost want to tell her. I have no idea what's going on in my life, and even less of an idea about how to start fixing things. Cristina's mostly just amused by all of it. And Derek…well, lately I do not understand the way his mind works at all. And groping each other in a hospital bed does not even come close to figuring things out. I think it just adds more to the mess. So I seriously wish I could tell Bailey. After all, she's not being my boss right now, just my doctor. Maybe if I told her about the prom, and Finn's plans, and how Derek and I jump straight from ignoring each other to kissing desperately…well, maybe she'd be able to explain some of it to me. But Addison delivered her baby, and I'm just a slutty screw up of an intern. Why would she be on my side? Hell…I don't even know why I'm on my side here.

But before I can even start figuring any of this out, my mouth is already stammering a reply. "There's nothing going on between Derek and I…I mean Dr. Shepherd…and…well, it's totally nothing. I mean we're friends, but that's it. Seriously, he was just visiting."

I hate it when my lips don't consult with my brain before speaking, because then I end up saying stupid things (like adamantly claiming there's nothing going on with Derek and I, when that wasn't even the question Bailey asked.) Fabulous. Maybe I can manage to pass out a second time and escape the rest of this conversation? "Just visiting," I hear myself stammering again. "I didn't ask him to come in." Well, obviously I didn't ask him to come in. Seeing as I was _unconscious _at the time. Great job with the coverup there Meredith. Seriously, great job.

"Hmmm…" says Bailey, leaning back in her chair and giving me a long look.

"Nothing," I repeat hopefully, aiming for confidant and reassuring. Somehow it simply sounds weak and a little bit broken. I shrug helplessly, letting my head fall to the side as I look at Bailey.

"Alright Grey," she says as she stands up. "We'll leave it at that." She's frowning but her tone is still that gentle un-Bailey sound, so I have no idea what to think. I just nod my head, relieved that we are finally done with the interrogation. She sets my chart back down and starts to move towards the door.

"So does that mean I can go home now?" I know…not a chance. It's a stupid question. But still, I have to ask.

"No you do not get to go home now," says Bailey, turning back around. "You're staying here overnight and until we verify that you have regained a normal balance of water and electrolytes." I sigh and glare at the IV, wishing I could hurry the thing along. "Oh you don't get to complain," continues Bailey, catching my look. "You're laying down in bed while the rest of us are running holes in our shoes from all the extra work around here."

"Sorry," I stammer, realizing that I am propped up with three pillows and what appears to be one of the nicest, fluffiest blankets to be found within the walls of Seattle Grace.

"Mmhmm, that's what I thought," snaps Bailey, straightening her lab coat. She reaches out to open the door, but her hand halts, hovering just above the handle. "Do you want us to call anyone for you Grey? Do you want your mother informed?"

"No," I say immediately, perhaps a little too quickly judging by Bailey's raised eyebrow. "It's just…she's probably not even lucid right now. And if she is, well there's nothing she could do. It would just worry her for no reason." Bailey nods and once again moves to leave, but this time I'm the one to stop her. "Umm…could you…could you have somebody call Finn Dandridge for me?"

"Finn Dandridge?" she echoes, turning back around.

"Yeah…his number's in my phone. Cristina will know…she could find it for you. Tell him that," I pause for a moment, hoping that he hasn't started cooking already. "Tell him that I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to dinner tonight." Both of Bailey's eyebrows shoot straight up, and she looks almost amused by my request.

"Boyfriend, Grey?"

"Umm…sorta," I mumble, shrugging my shoulders. "I dunno…maybe."

"Uh huh," says Bailey, shaking her head. I have no idea why she looks so smug and amused. My personal life is very confusing. Some might even say it's traumatizing. (George would probably agree with me on traumatizing.) It is definitely not something people should be smirking over. Okay…maybe Cristina and I can smirk over it. We have to entertain ourselves somehow when we're at Joe's. But Bailey should not be smirking! The words Bailey and my personal life should not even be in the same sentences, but there they are. And there's her smirk. I should seriously just hide under the covers already.

But before I can disappear, Bailey's halfway out the door, and glancing back to answer me. "I'll have him called," she says, sending one finaly smirking headshake my way as she closes the door.

_Derek_

I walk straight out of the scrub room, letting the door swing loudly on its hinges, as I make my way over to the nurses' station. The hospital is quiet now, the rush of the day already emptied out and sent home, or put to sleep. I glance up at the clock as I untie my scrub cap and let it fall onto the counter. 10:52 I really should be heading home, I'm sure Addison's been there for hours already. However…it's hardly my fault that I'm still here. For once I'm not here completely on purpose. Even though I'm not the on-call neurosurgeon tonight, when a case comes in needing immediate surgery just as I'm about to leave, and the on-call surgeon is already in the middle of someone else's brain…I don't really have a choice. I have to operate. The awkward situation at home with the wife I've technically just cheated on for a second time didn't factor into my decision at all. Nope, not a bit. And it also wasn't due to some desire to stay near Meredith while she's here. I was simply being a good doctor. It was simply…business. My job, nothing more.

Still, since I'm here, I might as well go see Meredith again. Someone should make sure she's alright.

Although, I know she is. She woke up smiling at me. It's been so long since she's simply smiled at me, as if she was just happy that I was there. I honestly can't remember the last time she's smiled like that. Everything is always buried beneath so much baggage and anger between the two of us. But for a few moments there, it was as if all the pain had been forgotten. It's almost enough to melt away the image of her sprawled on the floor of the OR from my mind.

_Almost_, but not quite.

I don't think anything can make that image completely disappear, or help me forget the sick plummeting feeling it created in my stomach. Because…it's Meredith. I don't care if she's smiling or yelling or being completely unreasonable…it doesn't matter, just as long as she isn't unconscious and on the floor. I know she's fine now (and apparently no longer mad at me), but, for awhile, she wasn't fine. That fact alone is enough to propel me up to the fourth floor, and all the way down the hall towards her room.

The hallway is dim and silent, with a lone nurse flipping slowly through a magazine, her feet propped up on the counter. She doesn't even glance up as I walk past, and before I know it I'm at the end of the hall, my hand reaching out to open the door. However, a familiar voice cuts through the silence, and my outstretched hand drops immediately down to my side.

"Uh uh…don't you even think about touching that doorknob."

I turn around and come face to face with Bailey, exiting the room opposite Meredith's, and pulling the door shut behind her. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl already firmly in place on her brow. Great. So much for simply visiting Meredith.

"Evening Bailey," I say cheerfully, doing my best to ignore the look she's giving me. "Working late, I see." She doesn't answer, just continues to stare _down_ at me, which is impressive considering the fact that I'm nearly twice her height. "Umm…I was just," I continue, motioning towards the closed door behind me. "I was just gonna…"

"You weren't just anything," interrupts Bailey, her eyes narrowing.

"I was just going to visit her," I protest. "She's probably bored, and could use some company." Somehow, in the time it takes me to say this, our positions have switched and Bailey has gotten herself in between myself and the door to Meredith's room.

"She's asleep, she's exhausted, and she's not to be bothered."

"I'm not going to bother her. I won't even wake her up."

"You can't see her," says Bailey flatly, shifting so that the doorknob is completely hidden by her body. I shake my head incredulously.

"I _can't_?"

"No. You can't," snaps Bailey, her voice rising. "You need to leave that girl alone. Meredith Grey is a smart woman. She made it through medical school, she's a good doctor. I don't doubt her intelligence. But the fact that she's laying in there," continues Bailey, pausing briefly to cock her head at the closed door. "The fact that she is laying in there because she actually drank herself dehydrated is beyond stupid. And the only thing she consistently lacks even a shred of intelligence about is _you_. So no Derek, you can't see her."

"I don't…I…if I could just…" I stammer, trying to process everything Bailey's just said. But she starts talking again before I'm even able to create a cohesive sentence.

"Go home, get some sleep. And let Meredith be. You're only going to hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her," I protest, suddenly able to reply, and growing somewhat angry at the accusation. Meredith is the last person I could want to hurt, and, seeing as Addison is at home, it's pretty much the last place I want to be reminded of right now. However, Bailey doesn't seem to be in the mood to listen to what I'm saying or to even care in the slightest that I'm scowling at her. Instead she just reaches out and takes hold of my elbow, steering me away from Meredith's room. I look down at my arm in shock, but I don't pull it away. I'm actually not completely sure that I could. Bailey is surprisingly strong. However, I glance reluctantly back at the closed door as she marches me towards the elevator. "You're seriously not going to let me see her?" I try one last time.

"I'm not," states Bailey firmly. "Not now, not in this hospital, not while she's my patient."

"We're friends though," I blurt out, causing Bailey to scoff and shake her head at me.

"That's what she said too."

"See," I say happily. "You should believe us." The only response I get is Bailey shooing me into the open elevator. "Come on Bailey," I insist, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "If we're both friends, why won't you just let me see her? Just for a little bit?"

"Because," she states evenly. "You two aren't friends." My mouth drops open and I start to protest once more, but Bailey just lets out a short bark of a laugh, reaching in with a hand to stop the elevator door from closing completely. She looks up at me, eyes narrowed, stating, "Your little mistress is a bad liar."

And with that, she turns on her heel and lets the door slide shut, leaving me alone in the elevator with nothing other then a horrible sinking feeling as her words echo over and over in my mind.


	5. Chapter 5: Ways and Means

_Meredith_

"Do you think she's asleep? She looks asleep. Maybe we should come back later…or at least knock or something."

"Dude, stop blocking the door."

I can hear them talking in hushed voices from where they're standing in the doorway. They've been there for a good five minutes, George continually insisting that I'm asleep, and Alex switching back and forth between flirting with one of the nurses and berating George. I don't think they have plans to stop any time soon. I should probably turn around and say something…let them know that I actually am awake. But that would require effort, and then I would have to talk to them and pretend to seem okay. And honestly, that would just cut way too much into my time for moping and brooding about the disaster my life has become.

"But she's asleep," continues George, interrupting my thoughts again. Exactly. Listen to George already. I'm asleep here.

"What is going on here? Did you guys get it?" I almost turn my head at the sudden sound of Cristina's voice. I hadn't realized she was standing there too. I wonder if there's any way to get her in here and keep the boys out? She could sit by my bed and bash McDreamy for me, since that always goes along well with moping.

"Yeah of course we got it, but that doesn't matter since Fetus here won't stop blocking the door."

"I am _not_ a fetus! And I'm blocking the door because she's asleep," protests George. Aww George. He's blocking the door for me. Maybe we really are going to manage to be friends again after all.

"See?" continues Alex pointedly. I don't even have to turn around to know that he's glaring at George. "If we're not going in, I'm just gonna eat it. This stuff's getting cold."

"Don't touch it," snaps Cristina immediately. "We're going in. Now George, do I have to actually hit you to get you to move?"

"She's sleeping!" he yells. (I have no idea how George thinks I'm still asleep since they're seriously having a shouting match in my doorway.)

I sigh and finally turn my head to stare at them. George has himself wedged determinedly in the doorway, and Cristina is leaning over his arm, trying to get by. Alex is just standing there, looking bored and holding a large paper bag in his hands. "No I'm not," I mutter, frowning at them and scooting slightly up in my bed. "And what's getting cold?"

"Nice job Bambi," says Cristina, as she finally pushes past George and into my room. "You woke up Mer."

"No I didn't…I…if you guys hadn't been so loud, she'd still be sleeping!"

"This," says Alex, walking past the both of them (and apparently the only one bothering to answer my question.) He drops the paper bag in my lap, quickly snatching up the one comfortable chair in the room for himself. I raise an eyebrow, but reach out and open up the bag anyway.

"Umm?" I ask as I pull out a warm, Styrofoam container. "What's this?"

"Breakfast," says Cristina simply. She picks up my legs and shifts them over, taking a seat on the bed where they'd been laying.

"Nobody likes hospital food when they're sick. Well, I don't think anybody likes it when they're healthy either. I don't like it, but you know…it's here. So I usually eat it. But you're sick, so…"

"So you guys brought me french toast?" I ask, cutting off George as I glance down at the container. It's filled with several squashed pieces of toast that are just about drowning in a pool of butter and syrup. George nods earnestly, but Cristina frowns as if I've just insulted her surgical technique.

"We didn't just get you french toast. We neglected our patients, distracted Bailey, and ran a block and half to get you french toast." She pauses, glancing down at the clearly mangled breakfast, shrugging. "So, you'd better eat it all Mer."

"Umm…a block and a half? Where'd you guys go?"

"The diner," says Alex as he reaches forward and grabs one of the pieces of toast in his bare hands, shoving the thing into his mouth. I had been about to take a bite, but at his words I set the fork back down in the container, pushing it towards him.

"That's disgusting," groans Cristina as she turns away from the food falling out of Alex's mouth.

"You know you love it," he mumbles back, opening his mouth widely in her direction. I just stare at the container in my lap, not really listening as the two of them begin to trade insults. In its condition, the french toast was never really that appetizing, but now…now I can't eat it. They've made it all the way through from Evil Spawn to Crackwhore, and are pretty much wrapping up the gynecologist insults before they realize that I'm just sitting there staring at my food.

"Mer?" asks Cristina.

George nudges me with an elbow. "What's wrong Meredith? Aren't you hungry?"

"Alex's face is probably ruining her appetite," continues Cristina, reaching out a hand to block his face from my view.

"No…no, it's not that," I say quietly. The actual reason is stupid. Unbelievably stupid. I seriously hate myself for caring. If only they hadn't come in. I should've just kept on pretending to sleep, because now they're all looking at me expectantly, waiting for an explanation. I sigh and shrug my shoulders, saying, "Derek used to take me there…"

"Oh…" says Cristina, getting it immediately. She leans forward, pulling the container away from me. "Here." She rolls her eyes and pushes the rest of the french toast into Alex's lap. "Trust me. She's not going to touch it."

"I will," I protest, but that's a lie. The last thing I can do right now is eat a reminder of when Derek and I were happy and together, instead of being the very dirty, unhappy, inappropriate thing that we are now. _Thing… _See, that's the sad part. (Well one of the sad parts.) I don't even know what to call us. Their isn't an "us" because we both belong to a different "us." We're just a thing. A thing that shouldn't even exist. A nothing…totally nothing.

I'm just a depressed dirty mistress. A dirty mistress who isn't going to eat food from the restaurant her ex-boyfriend/now-very-inappropriate-lover used to take her to before work. It's just not going to happen.

"Why won't she touch it? Why won't you touch it Mer? What does Dr. Shepherd have to do with french toast anyway?" asks George, looking curiously back and forth between Cristina and I. "Did something happen?"

"No," I say quickly. "Nothing happened."

Cristina just leans forward, ignoring George, and asking, "Have you talked to him?"

"Since when?"

"Since your last knitting lesson," smirks Cristina. I shoot her a look and glance over at Alex, but he seems completely occupied with cramming every last piece of french toast into his mouth. And George, well…he's George. He's never been too good at picking up on this stuff, so I'm not that worried.

"No, he hasn't come back," I say, finally answering Cristina.

"And so you've been obsessing all morning now."

"No!" _Yes…_ "I haven't been obsessing." Cristina just raises an eyebrow, not at all fooled. "I wasn't obsessing," I insist. "It's just that, I wonder if it means something…him not coming back… We're friends, and a friend would come back…and he hasn't. It seems like the sort of thing that means something. And not a good something, but a bad something."

"Right…you haven't been obsessing Mer. Not one bit."

"I haven't! Seriously, I may have had a few moments of intense thought. But nothing more…it's just…well, don't you think it means something?"

Cristina gives me a long look, laughing to herself. "You're so pissed that he hasn't been back."

"I am not. I don't care at all. Although, don't you think it's the sort of thing you'd want to come back and talk about?"

"What is? Oh…you mean all the knitting?"

"Well…yes. Knitting. And everything else, but yeah…definitely the knitting."

Cristina shrugs. "Depends…Not everything needs a definition."

I just look at her incredulously. "_This _does!" Some things may not need a definition, but somehow…I don't see how this possibly slides by. Cheating, adulterous sex needs a label, otherwise it's just cheating, adulterous sex. And that leaves me as nothing more then the dirty mistress, again.

"You're teaching Dr. Shepherd how to knit?" interrupts George. "And you're mad at him for not coming back? Why is he…what did he…umm, what happened Meredith?"

"George, it's nothing," I sigh, turning to look at him. Well it's nothing so long as he doesn't think to ask Callie. "Seriously, it's a long story, and it's boring, and it's not really important anyway. So just…thanks for getting me breakfast. That was really sweet." George nods at this, but continues to shoot puzzled looks at Cristina and I.

"Dude," says Alex, getting up and heading towards the door. "Seriously." He shakes his head at George. "They're not _actually_ talking about knitting." Crap. Alex was listening after all. I should've realized that our code wasn't really that un-crackable. (And I suppose it helps that I'm consistently predictable too.) From the way he's smirking at me, he's got a pretty good idea of what actually happened. Still, Alex has always been good at keeping my secrets before, so I could worry…but I'm actually more worried about the fact that he seems to be colliding with a huge bouquet of pink roses and what appears to be a very large teddy bear.

"Umm…" I say, leaning forward in my bed to try and see just what's going on. A moment later, Alex mumbles some sort of greeting and pushes past the roses, leaving a rather confused looking Finn standing in the doorway, his arms full. "Finn," I say as I fall back against the pillows, and try my hardest to smile.

"Hey Meredith." He walks over, placing the flowers and the bear in my lap. It's seriously a giant bear. I mean, the thing is nearly as big as me. Before I realize it, he's leaning down towards me, his lips brushing against mine. Whoa…that's now two people I've kissed in the same hospital bed. Derek's kiss (well kisses plural, actually) was definitely more exciting, but he hasn't been back to visit since then, so I suppose I shouldn't complain about Finn's.

"Oh…hi…" I stammer, breaking away and scooting back towards the end of my bed.

"How are you feeling? I thought you could use some cheering up."

"Umm…yeah. I'm doing good," I say softly. "What's all this for?" I gesture towards the flowers and bear that have successfully hidden nearly all of my bed from view. Cristina is standing up and looking pretty disgusted at having just been displaced by all the stuff.

"To cheer you up," Finn continues, smiling at me.

"You didn't have to…" I start to stammer. He really shouldn't have. To say that I don't deserve them is actually a huge understatement. Girls who cheat on their sorta-boyfriends, and then don't even have the decency to feel bad about the cheating, definitely don't deserve roses and teddy bears. And that's the thing...

I don't feel bad.

I mean, I feel upset and overwhelmed and completely confused, but there is this small twisted part of me that is actually glad that I slept with Derek, that I was with him again, that, for a little while, he was mine again. And so seriously, I should just give Finn the flowers back already.

"No, but I wanted to," says Finn, laughing a little. He seems so happy. I would love to look that happy… That's it. I'm officially not thinking about Derek right now. I'm just going to concentrate on Finn, and being happy that he at least took the time to come visit me. "These are your friends right?" he continues. (Still smiling, still happy.) "I recognize them from the prom, but I'm afraid I've forgotten who's who." Oh great. The prom. So much for not thinking about Derek. (Not smiling so much anymore.) I shoot Cristina a warning look as soon as the word "prom" leaves Finn's mouth, but she just shrugs and continues to glare at the bear.

"Cristina and George," I say, pointing to the two of them.

"Ah, you're Meredith's best friend then." He rounds on Cristina and I close my eyes, because trying to engage Cristina in friendly conversation when you've just displaced her from her seat with a giant teddy bear…well, that's basically the equivalent of a death wish.

"Yes, and you're her vet."

"Yes, I am," he says, smiling at her. I don't know how anyone could return the look she's giving him with a smile. It's unnatural. "Doc was a lovely dog, very friendly and affectionate. Do you like dogs?"

Cristina just turns and looks at me, her eyebrows raised. "I'm not an animal person," she says flatly. Finn seems slightly taken aback, but after a moment he nods. The room starts to fall into an awkward silence, but George stands up, taking a firm hold on Cristina's elbow.

"Umm…we should probably leave those two alone, and, you know, actually see some of our patients," he says, moving towards the door. "Nice meeting you Finn," he adds, holding out his hand.

"Why are you touching me?" asks Cristina, yanking her elbow away from George. He just shushes her, turning his attention back to Finn who's apparently asking him a question. I hope he's not asking George about Doc too. Finn's going to think all my friends hate animals. "Mer…there's a giant bear on your bed and Bambi just _shushed _me," hisses Cristina, sounding seriously alarmed.

"I know."

"I swear, it's like your room is located in some freakish hell dimension!"

"Well…that would explain what happened yesterday."

"Seriously." She glances back at Finn and George, who are still talking. "I think they're bonding Meredith…"

I shrug. It does look that way. "Probably."

"Should we stop them?"

"I don't think we can…"

"You're just going to let them…bond?" She looks at me incredulously.

"I guess so…" I guess I am. At least someone is being nice to Finn. It should be me, seeing as how he honestly seems happy to see me even though I ignored him for a whole week. Plus he just brought me flowers and a bear. But…I've never really liked roses. And the pink ribbon around the bear's neck…it's just too…I don't even know what it is. It's just too something. It would be better in Izzie's room. Izzie would smile and hug it and laugh, or at least she would have if Denny had given it to her before he died. Now she'd probably just stare at it, sort of like what I'm doing. See…I knew I was becoming the second Empty Izzie.

"Mer? Meredith?" I look up to see both George and Finn facing me, apparently through with bonding for now. "Cristina and I are going back to work," continues George. "You rest okay?" I just nod, watching as the two of them start to walk out of the room.

"And Mer?" calls Cristina, turning back to look at me. "Don't you _dare_ knit anything."

I just roll my eyes as the door closes, leaving me alone with Finn. He smiles and sits down beside me, reaching out to take my hand in his. "Well, George seems like a nice guy," he says.

"Yeah…"

"And Cristina's…" He pauses, frowning slightly, as if trying to find the correct adjective to describe Cristina.

"Cristina, well she's Cristina. She takes some getting used to." That's about the best explanation I can come up with on short notice. At least, it's the politest one.

"Right, so…I have good news."

"You do?"

He nods. "I do. Since you couldn't come to dinner last night, I rearranged my schedule today. I had my secretary cancel all my appointments. I figured I could just keep you company here. You've got to be bored sitting in bed all day."

"Oh…" I say softly, looking down at the bundle of roses in my lap. I reach out and trace the edge of the petal with a fingertip. "That's great. That's really…great."

"Yeah. So…Meredith…" I should look up. When someone says your name in that slow, questioning manner, it usually means you should look up. "Meredith?" Yep, there he goes again. I sigh and lift my head, nodding slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Are you alright? It feels like forever since I last saw you, and I know this week's been kind of crazy for you. Should we talk about what's been going on? If you want to talk about it…"

"Oh…no," I say quickly. "We're good. I'm good. Everything's good. I'd rather…um…I'd rather just do something else right now." Right, as if that didn't sound suspicious.

"Something else?" he asks, politely passing over my sudden outburst of Crazy. "Well, we're stuck in a hospital so I'm thinking we could either spend the afternoon watching soaps or we could play a game."

"A game? What kind of game?"

"Well I brought a deck of cards." I start to shake my head, more in surprise then anything else, as Finn pulls a package of cards out of his pocket. "Come on," he continues, clearing away the remains of the french toast from the little table by my bed. He slips the cards out of the box and begins shuffling them, never taking his eyes from me. "It'll be fun," he prompts with a smile.

"Alright," I say, still slightly shaking my head. "I'll play."

_Derek_

"Hello Dr. Shepherd!" I look up as a voice calls out my name. The voice sounds familiar, although I can't quite place it. But then I see his face, smiling eagerly as he walks up to me.

"Dr. Dandridge," I say, scooping up my stack of papers and starting to turn away. He can only be here for one possible reason. Meredith. She must want him here. She must still want Finn.

"I was wondering," he continues, stopping me before I can walk away. "Can you point me towards the cafeteria? Meredith wants ice cream, and she sent me out to find some. But it seems I've gotten lost. It's a very confusing building you have here."

"Yeah…it can be confusing," I say dryly, not actually agreeing with him at all. What does Meredith possibly want with someone so unbelievably thick that he fails to notice the large sign beside the elevators clearly labeling the way to both the cafeteria and the gift shop. "Easiest way is to cross back over the bridge, and take the elevators down to 1B. Then it's straight down the lefthand corridor."

"Right, thanks. Good seeing you Dr. Shepherd," he says with that infuriating grin of his. It's sort of…jolly almost, like the sort of smile that belongs on Santa Claus…not on an actual human being. It makes me hate him just a little bit more. He turns and starts to walk away, but before he gets far, I call out to him. I'm not sure what prompts me to, but I do, and the words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Meredith likes…Meredith likes the strawberry ice cream best." She does. Once, on our way home after a particularly long day, she made me stop at the grocery store just so that she could get more ice cream. She said George had bought the wrong flavor. Although, that was before she started going home with Finn and letting him buy her ice cream.

"Oh…" Finn turns back around, nodding his head. "Thanks man." His voice sounds wary and his grin has finally disappeared. "You know her pretty well, don't you?" he asks at last.

"Yeah," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I do." He's staring at me skeptically, as if trying to decide whether or not to speak, his eyebrows knit together in the center.

"Aren't you her boss?" he blurts out after a minute.

"I am."

"You're her boss, and you shared a dog?" he states incredulously. The way he spits the words out, I have a feeling this has been bugging him for some time. "You know her favorite flavor of ice cream, she never talks about you as Dr. Shepherd…always Derek, but you're her boss. Her married boss. Why do you know her so well?"

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders, as I say, "Meredith and I have been friends for a long time." I think I sound smug, but I can't help it. Because I do know her favorite flavor of ice cream, she does call me Derek, she kissed _me_ last night when she woke up. Not the overgrown boy scout. So what if he's here now. It probably doesn't mean anything. She probably doesn't even want him here. He probably just came. That would be the sort of thing he'd do, march in unwanted with balloons and "Get Well" cards.

"Right…friends," he snorts, shaking his head. "What's really going on?" Well, Finn is persistent. I'll give him that. Ha…the stories I could tell him in answer to that…would probably all cause Meredith to flip out. Seeing as I like the fact that she's speaking to me again, I should really just keep my mouth shut.

"Our history is for Meredith to tell you, if she wants. It's not my place to," I finally say, simply returning to the pile of folders Finn distracted me from. "Now, excuse me Dr. Dandridge, but I have patients to see." He nods, a frown still firmly etched on his face, as I push past him and walk down the hall.

-----

After checking the OR board, and seeing that Bailey is currently in the middle of a three hour surgery, my feet just start to wander towards Meredith's room. It's not intentional. It never seems to be intentional with her. It's always this force that comes up and gets in the way of what I want to do, what I plan to do, what I _know _is right. I don't even know how to begin to describe it, to say it's a giant magnet seems freaking ridiculous, but it feels that way. It's this force that gets in the way of everything rational. It doesn't matter that Bailey, her boss, actually knows what's going on. It doesn't matter that Finn was here to see her this morning. It doesn't matter that my wife is no more then a floor or two away, it just doesn't matter at all. Because…she's Meredith. I just have to see her.

And so I walk down the long corridor of the fourth floor yet again, my pace quickening as I draw near to Meredith's room. A hundred scenarios flash through my mind; how she'll look up and say my name, smiling and telling me to sit down, how we'll finally have the chance to talk and figure out what all of this means, how she'll lean close to me (close enough so that I can smell her hair) and she'll brush her lips softly against mine.

But the blinds aren't closed, and I stop abruptly, halted by the scene that I can see through the slats. Meredith is sitting up in bed, her hair falling long and loose over her shoulders. And she's already smiling. She's not smiling because she's seen me, because she hasn't yet. No…she's smiling and laughing, and leaning forward to talk to someone sitting in the chair next to her bed. I can only see the back of his head, but the dark blonde hair is a dead giveaway. _He _is still here. Three hours later, and he's still here. Doesn't he have a job somewhere? He should be off saving some damn kitten, not sitting there next to her, leaning forward to brush her hair out of her eyes.

But he is, and Meredith is _smiling_.

I don't even hear the footsteps approaching from behind. I'm too busy watching Meredith, and trying to ignore the sudden sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Derek?" Addison's voice breaks into my mind, sounding mostly soft and gentle, with just the barest hint of an edge to it. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I say, quickly turning away from the window. "Just thinking." She tilts her head to the side, peering through the slats at the sight of Meredith with Finn. She arches one of her eyebrows at me.

"About Meredith?" she asks.

"Meredith? Yeah...well I want to make sure she's alright."

"She'll be fine," says Addison, peering through the window and studying the two of them. "She's sitting up and talking, I'm sure she's fine."

"Right," I say, shrugging. "Still…" I have to actually stop myself from turning back around to look at her.

"Besides," continues Addison, cutting off my thought as a slight smile crosses her face. "Finn's with her. I'm sure he'd be out here getting a nurse if he thought she was behaving strangely at all." I just nod my head as I flip through the file I'm holding in my hands, waiting for her to give up and walk away down the hall again. Waiting for her to leave me free to go into Meredith's room.

But Addison doesn't walk away.

She just stands there and stares at me, while I focus intently on the papers in my hand to avoid staring at Meredith. "Derek…" questions Addison after a moment, her voice a soft, cautious breath.

I tilt my head to the side, looking at my wife. "What?" My response comes out harsh and annoyed, and Addison actually takes a step backward, away from me. When she finally speaks again, her tone is one of resolute, unnatural cheerfulness.

"Are you hungry? Do you want to go get lunch with me? I haven't had a chance to eat all day…" I sigh and start to shake my head. What I want to do is go in there and talk to Meredith.

"Addie…I'm not hungry. I've got stuff to do. I've…"

"Look at her Derek," she continues, the cheerfulness fading away as quickly as it appeared. "Really look at her."

But I don't look at Meredith. I'm too busy raising my eyebrows at Addison. I must have heard her wrong, because it sounds like she went from suggesting lunch to actually encouraging me to look at Meredith. "Look," she insists again. "She's smiling. Meredith doesn't smile a lot…" Well, apparently I'm not the only one who's noticed that. "But Derek, she's smiling now." I grudgingly turn back to the window, trying to ignore Addison's voice, but somehow it keeps seeping in. I nod, my gaze focusing once more on Meredith. Addison takes a shaky breath, and rests her hand against my arm, saying, "So what's going on…aren't you and I trying? Aren't we all friends? Don't we want her to be happy?"

"Of course," I say roughly. I want Meredith happy. Just not with that idiot Finn. I hate the sight of him with her. But Addison's still watching me expectantly, wanting more reassurance then what I just gave her.

Only…I can't give her any more.

I'm too distracted by the sudden feeling of my heart dropping down into my stomach. Everything flares white, hot and painful for a second as I watch Meredith scooting over to the far side of her bed. Scooting over to make room for _him_ to sit down beside her.

"Fine," I blurt out, my tongue practically stumbling to spit out the word. "Fine…" I've linked my arm through Addison's and turned my back resolutely to the window before I even realize it. "Let's go have lunch."

-----

_A/N - Wow, halfway through my second story, and I finally realize that if I put the author's note down here, I can actually comment on what happens in the chapter. It sure took me long enough! Anyway, this section took forever to write...I was dealing with a very uncooperative brain. But, it's finally done, so...yay! It was fun to write, because I love having the interns together...just took a long time. Plus there was no actual Mer/Der interaction in this chapter either because, well...Finn needed to return. Meredith hasn't ended things with him, so he's still around. And well, Finn makes Derek jealous. So, that said...there will be more of Mer/Der in the next chapter. Thanks so much for the lovely reviews. They seriously make writing this so much fun. I love each and every comment.  
_


	6. Chapter 6: Run

_Meredith_

There are fifty-two tiles on the ceiling of my room. Fifty-two. Trust me, I just counted them. I also flipped through all twelve channels on the crappy little television three times, and read my own file more thoroughly then I've read files for some of my patients. And my case isn't even _remotely _interesting. It's just that…well, I need something to do. This is a very small boring hospital room, and until Finn gets back, I need something to distract me from all the thoughts inside my head. My thoughts are very persistent. They seem to have a mind of their own, which is actually kind of scary if you think about it. And so I'm making a big effort to actively count things and violently change channels just to keep the thoughts in my head from popping up and making me want to cry.

You know, when I put it that way…it's really not my fault that I now know just how many tiles are on the ceiling. It's Finn's fault. He left me alone with my crazy mind. My crazy mind that just zooms straight to Derek when my Sorta-Boyfriend isn't within a five-foot radius of me. And it's Derek's fault too. If he had come back to visit me a second time, I would not have been in the midst of a minor (okay, it was more of a regular sized) freak out all day long. I seriously thought he would've been back by now. Or, at least bothered to wave through the window or stick his head in the door for a minute. Maybe drop a quick, "Hey Meredith…about that thing where your best friend walked in on us half naked." But no, I got nothing. Maybe he wants to pretend it never even happened. We had been pretending prom didn't happen. I guess we're just continuing the trend. I don't know why I let myself get my hopes up with him every single time. Especially now seeing as I'm a renewed dirty mistress and he's still married. That is not how you spell success. Actually, I think it spells something closer to completely fucked.

Oh God…I need something else to count.

Hmm…maybe all the rose petals, or my split ends, or…never mind. The door's opening. Finally. (Maybe it's Derek.)

Nope… "Oh, it's you," I say as the door opens a little wider and Cristina slips in.

"Gee you sound thrilled. Expecting someone else?" She's smirking again. Lately, everyone seems to be smirking at me every time I open my mouth. I feel like there's this huge joke everybody's in on but me. (I have a hunch that the joke just might be my life. That'd be fitting.)

"Finn," I say. Cristina promptly rolls her eyes.

"Yeah…right. More like McDreamy."

"I am not expecting McDreamy," I say crossly. I've given up on that. Now, I'm just back to foolishly hoping, but Cristina doesn't need to know that. She may be my person, but she's already smirking more then enough. "I'm waiting for Finn. He went to borrow a board game from one of the nurses."

"A board game?" echoes Cristina. "Seriously Meredith, a board game?" I just nod my head. I don't know why she's so surprised. There's not much else to do when you're stuck in a bed the whole day. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm sure Derek and I could find plenty to do in bed to keep us occupied for a day. That would be..._good_. Only no, that's not the point. My mind needs to stop thinking dirty thoughts about Derek. "First he brings you flowers and one seriously freakish bear, and now he's got you wanting to play board games?"

"I like board games," I try, but Cristina just keeps staring at me incredulously. "Finn's being nice. He's trying to cheer me up!" I insist. He actually was doing a pretty decent job of it too, before he left me alone with my thoughts. Now I'm not feeling so cheery anymore. Stupid thoughts. Stupid Derek. "You know he took the whole day off of work just to visit me. He rearranged all his appointments. Derek would never do that…"

"Shepherd saves humans Mer. Not chipmunks and rabbits, but real live _humans. _You can't postpone emergency brain surgery to go shopping for hell bears from Oz." She picks up the bear and frowns at it, before dropping it face down on the floor. At a guess, I'd say she's not too fond of the bear. "And I don't see why anyone would want too," she adds, shaking her head. Okay, Cristina needs to get with the program here and defend Derek when I need him to be defended, and bash him when I need him to be bashed. No more of this saying the opposite of what I want to hear thing that she's been going for lately.

"Yeah…well…" I shrug and settle back against the pillows. I'm not really sure what my point is here. I think it has something to do with Finn being nice though. That reminds me… "Finn brought me ice cream," I say, sitting back up and looking at Cristina. "My favorite flavor, and I didn't even tell him. Somehow he just knew." I fold my arms over my chest and smile proudly. There's no way Cristina has a counter argument for that.

"What?" she asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know they were serving tequila-flavored ice cream today." Oh, that's funny Cristina. Very funny. Seriously, some times I hate her a little.

"Cristina," I sigh, imploring her to listen to me. "He took the whole day off for me, and he brought me presents, and we played games and we had ice cream… Finn's nice, and I don't care at all that Derek didn't come to visit me." Cristina doesn't believe me. It would probably help if I sounded a bit more certain, maybe a little less like I'm trying to convince myself. "So I don't know why you're defending Derek over McVet," I add crossly. There…that helped make me sound a bit more convincing.

"Right…" snorts Cristina. Okay, maybe convincing was the wrong word choice. "McVet, yeah…see, that's the thing. Would you have slept with Derek at the prom if he was just called McDoctor?"

"Huh? McDoctor?" I ask. She is seriously making no sense. "Why would we call him McDoctor? He's already McDreamy."

"Exactly. He's McDreamy. McVet is just McVet. The best nickname we could give him is a freaking McJobDescription."

"McVet's catchy," I say stubbornly.

"Meredith." Oh great, she's Meredith-ing me. "Seriously? Catchy? Look, I'm not defending McAss, but it doesn't matter how many ice cream flavors McVet guesses correctly for you, or how many board games he brings you. He's always just going to be McVet. And that is safe and boring." She points a finger at my face, adding, "The happiest he'll ever make you is the same messed up fake happy you've been trying to pull off all day."

"I'm not fake happy!"

"Yeah, and I'm a nice person."

"I'm not…it's just…I'm…" I shrug my shoulders and sigh, shaking my head. She's looking at me with that infuriating expression that means she knows she's right. Well, Cristina always thinks she's right, but this look, this look just screams that she's right and Finn will never make me happy. It's really not proving very helpful right now. "Don't we hate the happy people?" I mutter finally, glaring at Cristina from where I lay nestled in the pillows.

Oh great. Another Cristina look. If I had to spell this one out, I'd say it's pretty much a stop-changing-the-subject-and-lying-to-your-person-already look. She and Derek could seriously have a competition over who crams the most into a single look. It'd be a close race. Although…Derek's looks tend to make me want to rip off my clothes. He might get extra points for that. "We do hate them," Cristina agrees at last, her expression softening slightly. (Which for Cristina, is quite an achievement.) "They're unnatural," she adds, just as the door to my room opens again to reveal Finn, smiling proudly and holding up a large rectangular box.

"Look what I found," he calls to me as he steps through the doorway.

Cristina turns to stare at him, a look of horror on her face, before quickly turning back and mouthing, _"See," _pointedly in my direction.

"Umm…" I say, frowning at Cristina and tilting my head to the side to study the front of the box. "Monopoly." He got Monopoly. Of all the games he could get, he got Monopoly. I hate Monopoly.

"Yeah, sorry. No time for that," says Cristina, reaching out to take the game from Finn, and simply dropping it onto the floor next to the bear. Did she seriously just do that? Poor Finn, he looks completely baffled. He is really not used to being around Cristina at all. Oh well, at least that means no Monopoly.

"What?" asks Finn, looking back and forth between me, Cristina, and the discarded game.

"Yep. Your labs are back Mer. Bailey says you can go home tonight." I glance down at her hands, just now realizing that she's holding a stack of lab results and discharge papers. I wonder how I missed that. Surgeons are supposed to be observant. "And she says she wants you working only half your shift tomorrow," adds Cristina as she tosses me the lab results. I nod, pursing my lips as I start to flip through them. It's hardly protocol for patients to see these, but we're all doctors here, so whatever.

"That's great Meredith," says Finn, sitting down next to me and interrupting my concentration.

"Mmhmm."

"And it's only seven," he continues, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I can drive you home and still make you that dinner we never got around to." Well I guess dinner can't hurt. He is a good cook, and I can only microwave.

"Okay…" I say absently, closing my file and purposely avoiding Cristina's eyes. "Lets go."

_Derek_

I can hear them coming down the hallway before they even make it around the bend in the hall and out into the open space of the lobby. They're loud, their voices carry. And well, its always impossible not to notice Bailey's interns, especially when they include Meredith.

"I'm good. Seriously. Stop pushing me. I can walk." That would be Meredith, cross and stubborn and probably twisting around to glare at whoever is wheeling her down the hall.

"I know you can walk Mer," answers another voice, carrying just as easily to where I'm seated as the first one. It sounds a lot like Cristina.

"Then why aren't you letting me? People are looking at me funny," hisses Meredith.

I think Cristina starts to reply, but her voice is drowned out by another voice. A voice that I have absolutely no desire to hear. "Nobody's looking at you funny Meredith. Don't worry, you look lovely." They round the corner as Finn speaks, and I catch Cristina shooting his back a very obvious eye roll. (That reminds me, I've always been a fan of Dr. Yang. Very sensible woman.) I think Meredith is rolling her eyes as well, but I can't tell. She does look slightly annoyed, but that could just be because she's buried beneath a giant teddy bear and a bundle of roses. "Just wait here," continues the idiot veterinarian, as they near the exit to the lobby. I should probably stop staring at them and at least pretend to be reading the paper. "I'm going to go pull the car around." The car. Car, singular. That means they're going home together, to the same destination. My teeth are grit together before I even realize it, and I barely hear Meredith's reply.

"Don't be silly Finn. I can walk to a car."

"It's all the way at the other end of the lot Meredith. Wait here, it'll just take me a minute to swing it around." She sighs but shrugs her shoulders, nodding slightly as he hurries out the door and across the dark parking lot.

Cristina mumbles something that I can't make out, but she's smirking and Meredith looks frustrated or perhaps just exhausted. I shake my head, smiling to myself. She's always been cute when she pouts.

"Seriously Cristina, that's not it," she blurts out loudly. "And I'm not smiling fake-happy, I'm smiling real-happy." She smiles suddenly as she says this, as if to prove her point, and the expression is so clearly not a smile, so clearly a forcibly cheerful grimace, that I almost laugh out loud. "Besides," she continues, sinking back in the chair and folding her arms over her chest. "You're supposed to be on my side here." She winces slightly as she speaks, but quickly resumes pouting almost immediately.

"Seriously Mer, sides? We're not Izzie and George here. But for the record, I've always been on your side when it comes to him. You know that." _Him? _I glance quickly down at my paper, and try to remain inconspicuous. There are only two possible people that that could refer to; me and the freaking boy wonder, coming to the rescue with his car out in the parking lot. She opens her mouth to continue speaking, but gets interrupted by the sudden buzzing of her pager. "Crap. Gotta go."

"What? You're leaving me to sit here and wait for McVet all by myself?" asks Meredith, twisting around in her seat and catching sight of the pager in her friend's hand.

"Umm yeah, I'm working remember? Unlike you, I don't get free sick days and flowers for _my _hangovers."

"Dehydrated," insists Meredith, but she nods and sinks back into her chair as Cristina turns away and disappears down the hall. I try to keep pretending to read the paper, but Meredith is sitting there by herself, just staring out the wide front window. Her hair is falling forward, long blonde strands that hide her face from view. I've always loved her hair. It's so soft and golden, and it has this way of just whispering through your fingers. She sighs and straightens up, frowning at her armful of get well gifts before dumping them unceremoniously into the empty seat. Without meaning to, I stand up and cross the lobby to where she's standing, staring out the window. She doesn't turn around at the sound of my footsteps, just keeps staring, apparently lost in thought.

"Meredith," I say gently, reaching a hand out to graze her arm. She jumps visibly, gasping as she turns around.

"Derek…" She says my name in that soft breathy way she gets when she's caught off guard. "Sorry, I…you startled me."

"Sorry," I apologize. Meredith nods, staring up at me, a frown slowly appearing on her face. I don't know how she manages to be so consistently beautiful, but suddenly I'm not sure what to say. She has a way of making me forget things. "So you get to go home?" I manage at last.

"Yeah. Bailey said I could go." Bailey…right. Now is probably not the best time to bring up what Bailey knows, at least, not if I want Meredith to continue talking to me.

"That's good," I say softly, smiling at her. "How are you feeling? Better?"

"Fine," she says shortly. "I'm fine." Her voice turns suddenly short and brisk, her green eyes clouding and turning gray.

"Meredith…"

"What Derek? I'm fine, everything's fine. Everything's perfectly fine." Right. The only time Meredith ever describes anything as fine is when it's actually the complete and total opposite of fine.

"Mer, don't lie. What's wrong?" I reach out, running my hand down her arm, trying to get the tense expression behind her eyes to soften. "Come on, talk to me. We need to talk." She smiles slightly at this, nodding and leaning towards me. I feel my breath catch as she tilts her head back and looks up at me, her eyes searching my face.

"We do," she agrees quietly, but even as she speaks, her expression tenses up again. "But why now Derek? I could have used you earlier, you know, some time after you left me alone with my _boss_."

"I know. I tried to," I say, shrugging my shoulders as the frustrating memory of Finn swims back into my memory. "But you were never alone. That idiot of a vetrinarian was always with you."

"You mean Finn? He has a _name_, Derek." She glares at me, shaking her head. From the way she's pursing her lips, I'm pretty sure she's about to start rambling. "At least he bothered to come see me," she continues. "At least _he _bothered to make time for me. It's not like I like Monopoly or really want to do crossword puzzles all afternoon, but at least it's something. At least he's trying."

"Since when do you play Monopoly?" I interrupt. (See, I was right about the rambling.)

"I don't," she snaps, eyes flashing. "That's not the point." I'm not sure what the point is. I've been trying to see her all day. We're finally alone now, we might as well take advantage of it and talk about what's happening.

"Fine, he has a name. But can we just talk now?"

"No," she says, her stubbornness rearing up as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Please Mer," I implore, my voice softening.

"Oh, don't even try that," she snaps. "And no, we can't talk now. Finn's going to be back with the car any second."

"Right…Finn," I mutter, hating the sound of his name. Even as I speak, I catch sight of him climbing out of a car and walking towards the hospital entrance. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of him," I say bitterly.

"Hey I got the car," calls Finn as he makes his way towards us. He passes over me and turns towards Meredith, the two of us not even bothering to pretend that we're happy to see each other. "Ready to go Meredith?" he asks, slipping an arm around her waist. My hand clenches instinctively into a fist, and Meredith's eyebrows flutter slightly upward at the sight of it.

"Umm…I'm…" she begins, stammering as she looks at me.

"Am I interupting something?" he asks, finally glancing in my direction before looking quickly back at Meredith.

"No. We were just…" But before she can finish her sentence, we're interrupted by a fourth person walking up to us. The loud clack of heels on the tile floor alerts me to the fact it's my wife before I even catch sight of her.

"Derek, there you are," she says, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "Ready to go sweetie?" I should probably turn towards her, but I can't take my eyes from Meredith, because her eyes are suddenly flashing emerald, her lips tightening into a thin little line as she slowly and very deliberately places her hand in Finn's. "Finn," Addison continues when I don't answer her. "How good to see you again."

"Good to see you too Addison," he returns warmly. Figures they'd like each other.

"Are you here to take Meredith home?"

"Yep. She's just been released."

"That's great. I'm glad she's got someone like you to be there for her," she says pointedly, stepping closer to me. "Take it easy Meredith," she adds after a moment. It comes out as nothing more then a condescending afterthought. Addie really does know how to sound like a bitch when the desire to takes her. I think Meredith nods her head slightly at this, but she doesn't look over at Addison. She's too busy staring at me, our eyes locked together. Actually, to say that we're staring feels like an understatement. It's more of a glare that we're exchanging, something deliberately hard and biting. It's hard to explain, but it has everything to do with the fact that she's clutching Finn's hand and I have my arm looped around Addison's waist, and yet neither of us seems to care at all that they're talking to us. At least, I know I have no idea what they're saying. It's all just a fuzzy, distant hum. Nothing important at all. The only thing that's important is Meredith. Meredith, and the fact that Finn touching her is actually making my heart hurt.

"Well, should we get you home Meredith," says Finn loudly, his voice finally breaking through to us, as Addison turns towards me and repeats her earlier question about us leaving.

"Yes," spits Meredith, her eyes still burning and trained on me.

"Of course I'm ready Addie," I say, working hard to keep my voice calm and even.

"Lets go," continues Meredith, finally looking away from me and up at Finn. Without another word, she lets Finn slip his arm around her, and she wheels the two of them out the door and towards his parked car. I don't move as she walks away, just let my gaze follow her retreating back, ignoring the insistent pressure of Addison's hand against my arm. At last, the car pulls away with a low rumble and I shake my head, trying as best I can to clear my mind.

"Well…that was interesting," says Addison cautiously.

"Yeah." I sigh, shrugging my shoulders as we too make our way out into the parking lot. We walk in silence, and as I glance back at the hospital, I catch sight of Meredith's bear and roses still laying abandoned in the wheelchair. The anger, the frustration…whatever it was I've been feeling turns instantly cold and heavy, like a lump that's lodged in my throat.

I don't know what exactly we're supposed to be doing, but I have a feeling that it's not supposed to be this.

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_A/N - Wow...I'm seriously on a Snow Patrol kick when it comes to titles for this story. My apologies that this took so long to get up. It's due to me being back in school now, much less time to write. But I'm going to try to get another update up before the weekend's over. Anyway, I think this chapter was pretty straightforward. Lots of Meredith and Derek baggage and jealousy getting in the way of things. This was a bit of a shorter section, pretty much a set-up for the next chapter, where things sort of come to a head. And yeah, the story's about halfway through, give or take a chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews, I know I always say that, but they make writing this incredibly worthwhile. Hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Please review!_


	7. Chapter 7: As If You Have a Choice

_A/N 1 - Okay, this chapter is long. Seriously long. Freakishly long. Long by my standards, which are fairly loooooong already. So, my apologies! Seriously. Anyway, about this chapter. This one picks up five days after Meredith leaves the hospital with Finn. Basically because Mer continues to alternate between denial and freaking out, trying with Finn and longing for Derek, while Derek continues to be jealous, want Meredith and hate Finn (but yet be a snippy bastard who doesn't actually do anything to fix that) for five whole days. And knowing my writing, if I were to cover all of that, I'd be at a thousand freaking pages before anything actually happened. Soo…leaping forward through time to stuff that is mucho more fun to write. Consult the previous two chapters for the gist of their issues. Anyway, this chapter is a little unusual in that Meredith and Derek don't tell completely separate parts of the story. His part overlaps with hers because there was some stuff in here I really wanted to show from both their POVs. However if you find it dull, just skim past the first half of Derek's stuff, and be comforted that this is the only chapter (I think) where they'll overlap. Wow…this is a long A/N. I'm seriously rambling. Okay, shutting up now. Here we go!_

_-----_

_Meredith_

I think Derek and I have serious communication problems. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with for what's been going on. Normal, sane people who don't have communication problems probably do not walk around for five days straight speaking to each other only in clipped and bitter sentences. They also probably avoid shooting each other dark exasperated glares at every available opportunity. Derek and I, however? We're apparently very fond of all of the above. The only possible solution is that the two of us have serious communication problems. Well…either that or Cristina's right, and we really are playing a game of "watch me hurt you more." (As if I haven't been hurt enough by this whole thing.) Communication problems sounds nicer. Although, I think the sensible thing would be to actually talk, instead of continually pretending that prom and then my hospital room didn't happen. Especially since it's not exactly pretending when you walk around deliberately glaring at each other, because of the stuff you're pretending you don't need to talk about. But for some reason, we just keep trying to pretend.

Like I said…Derek and I have lots of problems.

Not that I care though. Derek's got Addison and I have Finn, so really, there isn't anything to discuss. It's a dead end. I should just focus on Finn, and his plans, and enjoying being with him.

"Meredith…Meredith, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Okay…I guess I'm not doing that great of a job of focusing on Finn. I smile, tucking my hair back behind my ears as I nod my head. "Yeah. I'm listening," I say, nodding apologetically. "Sorry."

"So, you think it's a good idea?" he asks eagerly, leaning forward to lay his hand on top of mine. Do I think what's a good idea?

"Umm…do I think it's a good idea," I echo, shifting in my chair. Well, I'm starting to think agreeing to meet Finn for drinks at Joe's after work wasn't such a good idea. I'm feeling too distracted for the thoughtful conversations he seems to be fond of having. "Yes," I agree hesitantly. I hope I didn't just agree to anything horrible, like mass-murder or starting another syphilis outbreak. Although…Finn's way too sweet for thoughts like that. And besides, he's practically beaming at me now. I must have agreed to something good.

"So you really want to come?" he continues. "Are you sure you can get the time off of work?"

"Umm," I say again, my voice a low uncomfortable whisper. "Time off work," I repeat slowly, glancing over at the bar. I wish it were possible to steal away to the bar for a second. This conversation would be a lot easier to get through if I had a shot of tequila…or two. But, the last time I did that I got dehydrated, and that's not even the point here. Finn is the point here. Finn, and apparently time off work to go somewhere? With him? Oh crap. What have I agreed to? _This_ is why you pay attention, Meredith. "Umm…"

"It'd be fun. Probably a little dusty since it's been a few months since someone used the house, but there'll be sand and water and it's got this huge old porch…really beautiful. It's a great house."

"House?" Finn looks up at me, catching sight of the puzzled frown on my face.

"Unless it's too soon," he adds immediately, squeezing my hand. "I'd completely understand…I'm not trying to rush you or anything."

"Oh right," I say quietly. Well, he completely misunderstood my frown. "House?" I repeat, taking a long sip from my drink. I don't know why I ordered scotch. I hate the taste of it…well, except when it used to just be a faint lingering taste on Derek's lips. Then I think I loved it.

"Well it's my parents' house, they rent it out. But nobody's using it right now." I nod my head, slowly catching on. "Just think about it Meredith. I want to take you somewhere special."

"Right," I whisper, tracing the rim of the glass with my finger. I'm pretty sure Finn's still talking, but my attention is quickly fading away yet again, because the door to Joe's has just swung open to reveal Derek standing there. He glances over at me, even from across the room his eyes stand out, deep indigo and locking almost painfully with mine. But he turns away after a second, walking deliberately towards the bar, leaning forward to talk to Joe.

(I should really stop staring already.)

"Meredith?" questions Finn.

I blink, shaking my head. "Umm…yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking." I smile nervously at Finn, but my eyes seem to have a mind of their own. My gaze drifts back to Derek. Okay…it doesn't exactly drift. It swings straight back to Derek pretty damn fast. Ah look at that, he's ordering scotch too. At least he's not asking for tequila shots. If he starts doing that, the two of us are seriously going to need to take a trip over to psych. Commit ourselves…

"When did he get here?" asks Finn, a hint of anger in his voice as he interrupts my thoughts. He's glaring at Derek, having followed my line of sight to find him sitting at the bar.

"A few minutes ago," I say softly, shifting in my seat and turning back to Finn.

"Shouldn't he be with his wife?" says Finn tersely.

"Maybe he's waiting for her to get out of surgery, Finn." I sigh, shaking my head. "Maybe he just wants a drink. It's not like they're joined at the hip or anything." I take a long deep swallow from my glass, carefully avoiding looking at both Finn and Derek. For the past five days, Finn and I have danced careful circles around the subject of Derek and I. Only now…now, the air in the room suddenly feels way too tense. I have a feeling that all the careful circling is about to come crashing to a halt.

"Why are you defending him?" asks Finn, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.

"Defending him?" I echo, shaking my head. "I'm not defending him, I'm just saying that he doesn't have to be around Addison every single second of every single day."

"Right…" says Finn, as I suddenly feel the weight of Derek's eyes trained on me. I glance back at him, fighting the urge to shiver as his eyes bore into me. Finn's voice reaches my ears, blunt yet questioning, saying, "You want to tell me what's really going on Meredith?"

"Nothing," I say, nearly choking on the word, as I yank my attention back to him once more. "Nothing's going on." We sit in silence for a minute, my fingers clutching desperately at the glass I'm holding.

"But in the past," he finally prompts, almost gently. "You two have a history." It's not a question, just a statement, and I find myself nodding my head in agreement.

"We do. A…umm…" I stammer, fidgetting with a strand of my hair. "A pretty big history," I say at last. "We used to date back…back when I first started working at the hospital." Finn just nods his head, sipping slowly from his beer. "You don't seem surprised," I add hesitantly.

He shrugs. "It's not that surprising." He smiles at me suddenly, his hand tightening over mine. "He's the reason."

"The reason?"

"The reason you're scary and damaged."

"Oh…that," I say, smiling slightly at the phrase we made up. "Yeah, pretty much." I look up at Finn expectantly, waiting for him to say something. Only, he doesn't. He keeps watching me until the silence starts to grow too great, and I begin to talk again. Well, I think it's more rambling then talking, but at least it's breaking the silence. "Look," I say shakily. "Derek and I, we…we were a mistake. A huge mistake, a huge, incredibly stupid mistake. Because…he's married and my boss and I didn't know and seriously, the list goes on and on. But even if I could turn back time Finn, I would probably still make the same mistake…because well, he's Derek. And I know his name isn't any sort of explanation, and this probably isn't making any sense to you, and I'm sorry. But, I never said that I didn't come with baggage. Because I do. Come with it, I mean. And a lot of my baggage is Derek Shepherd. So I understand if you don't want to stay…I mean, I know it's a lot." "

"Right," says Finn, letting out a low whistle. I just spin my glass between my hands, avoiding his eyes and watching the liquid within slosh against the edges. "Do you?" he asks after a moment.

"Do I?"

"Want to stay?"

I glance back at Derek, who's glaring into the bottom of his glass, doing my best to ignore how simply looking at him is making my heart race. "Well, Derek's married," I say quietly. Right, as if that stopped me on prom night. As if that's ever stopped us. Still…it should. He's married, that's why everything's so angry and broken. "So yes," I hear my voice say. It sounds somehow distant, far away, not quite connected to me. "I want to try Finn. I need to try."

"Good." He smiles at me, once again squeezing my hand. "I want us to try too Meredith." God…seriously, why does he have to be so sweet? And why can't I keep from looking back at Derek? "But, I want to know," continues Finn, once again pulling on my attention. "Do you still love him?" Do I still love Derek? Why does he have to ask me this when Derek's sitting just on the other side of the room?

"No, of course not," I say flatly. Great. It sounds even more like a lie outloud then it does inside my head. "No," I continue, and before I realize it, I'm giggling and shaking my head. "No…if no means yes. Yes…a little, a lot," I stammer, dissolving into further giggles. If I were Finn, I would get up and run now. Run far, far away. This has to be a sign of mental instability. But he's still just sitting there…oh crap, I seriously need to pull myself together. This is embarrassing. "But I'm trying…" I finally gasp, straightening up and wiping my eyes dry. "I'm trying not to," I manage to say without laughing. "I'm trying to move on."

Finn nods again, apparently not at all bothered by my momentary insanity. "It takes time," he says quietly, his voice turning grave. "It takes time to move on. I know how difficult it is." Oh please, please, please do not bring up your wife now Finn. His dead wife and Derek Shepherd are not equivalent, and seriously, the comparison just makes me feel like that much more of a whore.

"Right. Time," I agree, hopefully cutting off his branch into grieving widower territory.

"I can give you time Meredith. I don't mind to, so long as I know you're really willing to try."

"I'm…I want…I…" I stammer, but I'm interrupted by the ringing sound of Finn's phone before I can cobble out the rest of a reply. He glances at the caller id before apologizing and flipping it open.

"Dr. Dandridge speaking," he says. "Yes, yes of course. No, don't worry about that. Just try and keep her calm, I'll be there soon. Yeah, I'm on my way." I look at him quizzically as he shuts the phone and immediately pulls his coat back on. "Remember when I took you to birth a horse?" he asks, smiling at me. I just nod. "Well, this one's carrying twins. I'm sorry, it's just that it's likely to be a difficult birth. I know we were in the middle of a pretty big conversation, but it's…" I hold up a hand, stopping him.

"I'm a doctor too, remember? You don't need to explain the rushing off to do things part to me. I get that."

"Do you want to come?" he asks, visibly relieved. "You were a lot of help last time, you know. And then we could pick this up, afterwards." I glance over at the clock, doing my best to avoid looking at Derek as I turn towards the bar. It's already 10:50, and George is staying at Callie's tonight. I honestly don't want to leave Izzie alone that much longer.

"Not tonight," I say apologetically. "I need to get home to Izzie, and I have to be up early, so…" I shrug, settling back in my seat as Finn stands up. He tosses a cautious glance over in Derek's direction.

"Do you want me to call you a cab or drop you off somewhere?"

"No…I'm gonna finish my drink first. I'll be fine, seriously. You just go save those baby horses."

"Okay," he agrees after a long moment, and before I realize what's happening, he's leaning towards me. "Just promise me you'll think about things Meredith. Us…the beach house…" I start to stammer a reply, but he bends forward, capturing my lips with his. It's not a long kiss, but it's fairly deep, and by the time we pull away my hand has somehow tangled itself up in his hair. "Don't say anything yet Meredith," he says softly, smiling at me as he straightens up once more. "Just think."

I nod mutely, staring after him as he walks out the door. Even after Finn disappears, I keep staring straight ahead. It was a good kiss, a very good kiss actually. Surprisingly good. I didn't know he could kiss like that. But my stomach is so twisted into knots that it hurts, and I can't look anywhere but straight ahead, because to glance to the side would bring my eyes straight to Derek.

And that would be _unbearable_.

I can feel the heat of Derek's eyes practically burning into me, but I can't meet them. I can't meet them because my stomach is twisted into a thousand knots and my head is spinning worse then it did right before I fainted. I can't meet them because somehow…kissing Finn just felt unexplainably like cheating on Derek.

So instead, I lift my glass, throwing every last remaining drop of my drink hard down my throat. Damn do I need tequila now, but that means going up to the bar. That means standing near Derek when I've just threaded my fingers through Finn's hair in the exact same way I used to pull Derek down to me. In the exact same way I pulled him down to me less then a week ago. I straighten up, still not meeting Derek's eyes, and walk on shaky legs to the only place I don't have to pass the bar to get to. I hurry down the tiny dim hallway at the back of Joe's, pushing open the door and stepping into the brighter (and thankfully empty) bathroom.

I have no idea what's going on here, but I'm pretty sure that if we don't find a way to stop it, all four of us are going to end up seriously broken. I lean against the sink, my head resting against the cool surface of the mirror as my breathing gradually slows down. (If only there was a way to stop loving Derek and start loving Finn.) I don't know just how long I've been standing here before the door opens. Maybe it's just been a minute, maybe it's been a whole freaking day. I don't know…I can't get my mind to slow down enough to measure things rationally. What I do know though is who opened the door. Even if I couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, I would still know. It's just the way my life seems to work.

"This is the women's washroom, Derek," I say as coldly as possible as I cross my arms over my chest. He's glaring at me through the mirror, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his eyes dark and, for the lack of a better word…smoldering. Yeah, he's pretty much smoldering.

"Where'd Finn go?" he asks, ignoring my comment. Seriously? He came all the way into the bathroom to ask me where Finn went? Sometimes Derek is seriously unbelievable.

"I don't know," I say, waving my hand in frustration. "Some sort of vet emergency."

"Vet emergency," he echoes, his tone mocking as he smirks at me through the mirror.

"Derek, don't," I say angrily. He doesn't get to make fun of Finn when he's the one stalking me into the washroom. We fall silent for a moment, just glaring at each other's reflections, until finally Derek sighs, shifting his weight towards me.

"Meredith." That's all he says, breaking the silence with just the three syllables of my name. But the sound is harsh and pained, and it forces my breath past my lips in a low hiss. "Meredith…why are you with him?" Well, I guess he's skipping the small talk tonight and just jumping right in. "Why is this happening to us?"

"Seriously Derek?" I spit out, whirling around to face him. Where does he get off speaking in that bruised voice as if this is all something that has been done to him? How can he think he has the right to ask _me _why? I bite down hard on my lip because suddenly the desire to scream at him is unbelievably huge. I draw in a ragged breath as I shake my head in disbelief. "Seriously?" I stammer, nearly stumbling over the word.

"Yes, seriously," he says, walking closer to me, so close that I have to tilt my head back to keep looking into his eyes. "Why Meredith…why? Why are you doing this to me?" He shakes his head slightly, his blue eyes growing darker and darker as he leans against the stall door, his body poised just inches from mine. "Why are you killing me like this?" he asks, his voice catching slightly. I close my eyes, unable to look into his any longer. "Mer," he pleads, as if he's the only one who's hurting here. As if being away from him doesn't hurt me. As if watching him choose his wife didn't _kill_ me.

"Because," I snap, my anger suddenly boiling over as my eyes flare open again. I reach out, grabbing his hand and holding it up between us. "Because of this Derek. Because of this freaking _ring_."

I must have been shouting because the silence that follows my words is deafening. We stare wordlessly at his hand, our eyes trained on the thick gold band wrapped around his fourth finger. We're only a few inches apart, but we might as well be at opposite ends of the earth. Seriously, it's ridiculous how insurmountable this teeny tiny ring suddenly feels.

"So don't you dare ask me why Derek," I say at last, my voice coming out surprisingly calm and even. I drop his hand and turn back towards the mirror. "Go back to your wife," I continue quietly, even as my heart is screaming for him to stay exactly where he is. "You chose her."

"No…" I hear Derek take a deep shaky breath, his lips _almost _touching the back of my head. "No," he repeats again, his voice growing stronger. "I can't go back. I don't choose her."

"You can and you did," I say flatly. Why do we have to do this? Why does he have to be so close to me, so completely _everything _when I'm trying my hardest not to care. I screw my eyes shut, willing the tears that I can feel threatening me not to fall. Willing Derek to just go away.

But he doesn't.

His hand reaches out, wrapping around my waist. "I can't," he whispers, the sound almost lost in my hair. "I can't Meredith." I can feel his fingers burning against the sliver of bare skin between the end of my sweater and the start of my jeans, as he draws me closer to him. I bite my lip, trying not to say anything, but I think I'm actually whimpering here. Seriously, why does he have to touch me? Why can't he just leave? I'm not exactly known around the hospital for my amazing selfcontrol and willpower. "Not anymore," he continues, his voice so soft and low that it has me actually gasping for breath. "I love you Meredith. I love you too much to go back."

"No…" I stammer, twisting away from him. I have waited _months _to hear him say that. I have had countless dreams about him telling me that he loves me. I have imagined this moment more times then it's healthy to admit. He doesn't get to use that now. I shake my head frantically. "_No, no, no._" I search Derek's face, but I can tell he's not lying. And so I just keep backing up and shaking my head, until I've pressed myself up against the hard edge of the sink. "No," I say again, the word falling from my lips over and over until it doesn't even seem to have a meaning anymore.

"I do," Derek insists earnestly, apparently thinking my "no" is one of disbelief. "I swear I love you Meredith. I know I've been stupid, I know I should've said this months ago. But please, you have to believe me. You have to believe that I love you."

"No Derek, no. You don't get to say that. Not now." I shake my head. He looks suddenly blurry, which I'm pretty sure means that I've lost the battle with my tears and started crying.

"Why?" he asks warily, sounding more then a little hurt.

"Because I am trying," I gasp. "I am _trying _to move on. I am trying not to _care_. I am trying to _hate _you here." All I can hear is my voice shrieking and echoing inside my head. I'm not sure if I'm screaming or just sobbing, but it doesn't really matter. This is all just too much. Everything hurts and everything feels like it's breaking. "You don't get to use that now," I plead bitterly, my fist hitting his chest in frustration.

The next thing I know is the feeling of Derek's lips, pressing hard against mine, silencing my argument. It's hot and painful and unbelievably angry, and even though I know my lips are going to be swollen and practically bruised from this, my hand snakes up into his hair, deepening the kiss even further. We stagger backwards until I'm once again pressed against the sink, the cold porcelain digging into the backs of my thighs as the warmth of Derek's body presses against my front.

But he pulls away suddenly, unexpectedly, to look into my eyes. I'm clinging to him tightly to keep from toppling over into the basin of the sink, and as he feels me shift, his hand drifts down to my hips, holding me steady. "Say that," he whispers softly, before kissing me again. "Say that…you don't…need Finn…" he continues, punctuating his words with more kisses until I'm practically shivering in his arms. "Meredith…say it's still me…say you still…love me…" Derek's eyes never look away from mine as his lips brush against my skin over and over.

"I…" My voice trembles into his mouth, and he pulls away again to listen to me. And, _oh my god, _everything within me is screaming, _"Say it." _But I close my eyes, and turn my face away from Derek's. "I won't say it," I stammer, my voice sounding soft and shaky and barley more then a whisper. "I won't say it because I can't love you. You're not _mine _to love." I slide my hand out of his hair, pulling away to try and stop the tears that are flowing freely down my cheeks. "Stop doing this to me Derek," I hiss, shaking my head and finally meeting his eyes once more. "Please stop…" I think I'm begging, staring up into his eyes through a bleary pool of tears. I really shouldn't beg, but at this point, I can't think of anything else to do.

"I'm going to leave Addison," Derek says suddenly, reaching out and wiping away my tears. "Don't cry Mer…I'm going to sign the papers." His lips press against my damp skin, and I just blink at him in disbelief. "I'm going to make everything right Meredith, I swear. Just give me the chance to fix things."

"You're going to sign the papers?" I echo hollowly, not quite daring to trust the statement.

"I am," he insists, straightening up and settling me down on the edge of the sink. "We still have them. They're still good. Meredith, all I need to do is sign them."

I bite my lip, shaking my head as I say, "I've heard that before Derek. Why should I believe you? Give me a reason to believe."

"Why should you believe me? Why?" he echoes, running a hand through his hair. "Because…I didn't understand the first time. I didn't know how much I was going to lose by leaving you. I was an idiot. I thought it would pass." He shakes his head, laughing bitterly. "I thought I could get over you. But Meredith, Meredith…I can't get over you. You're _everything_." I just stare at Derek blankly, not giving him anything. They're only words. Beautiful words, but they're still only words. I'm not trusting them this time. I refuse to. Derek studies my silent face, sighing as he once more runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

He looks down abruptly, turning away from me, his face stony and unreadable. And this is almost as bad as "She's my wife." This is almost as bad as those three words because he's not looking at me, and I suddenly can't read his face at all. But before I start to slip once more, Derek's hand has grabbed mine and is lifting it upward, deftly uncurling my fingers and pressing my palm flat.

"Believe me Meredith," he whispers, looking straight into my eyes. And I gasp out loud because suddenly I can read him again, and suddenly there _is _a reason. It's cold and small, a hard weight resting in the center of my palm, and it's a _reason._

Slowly I tear my eyes from his, still fighting disbelief the whole way down. Fighting it until I can't anymore, because I see it. Because I'm holding it.

And now, I have to believe, because I'm holding Derek Shepherd's wedding ring in my hand.

_Derek_

This is hardly how I imagined my evening turning out, pressed up against Meredith in the cramped and dingy bathroom at the back of Joe's. It's not really the sort of outcome I normally expect when I stop to get a drink after work, especially since Meredith and I have hardly said a single non-medical word to each other since Bailey almost walked in on us. It's just that…_he _kissed her. He _kissed _her. He kissed _her_…Meredith. My Meredith, in front of me. And I honestly don't know how I managed to not get up and hit him.

It's not that I'm a jealous man. At least, I never thought I was. I don't get jealous. Not once in eleven years of marriage have I actually felt jealous. After tonight, I may have to rethink that statement. Because somehow, I'm in here, where I really shouldn't be. I've got four sisters, they've explained to me that a bathroom is more then just a bathroom to women. I could practically hear each of their voices inside my head, yelling at me to turn around the second that I started to push open the door. But I didn't listen. I couldn't. The thing is, there's a voice in my head that's louder then my sisters'. A voice that screams at me that Finn can't have Meredith, that he can't possibly need her as badly as I do, that I'm letting her slip away from me. And so I'm standing here, just staring at Meredith as she glares at me, her eyes dark and green and angry as she yells about Addison, insisting that I've already chosen, insisting that I should just go back to her.

"I can't go back," I say once Meredith calms down enough for me to get a word in. She's turned her back to me, but I find her eyes in the mirror, insisting, "I don't choose her." And I know I did before, but right now that doesn't matter. Right now, my mind can barely even hold on to the thought of Addison as my wife.

"You can and you did," she hisses, her voice suddenly soft and almost deathly quiet. Meredith closes her eyes, turning her face from me, so that the reflection I'm staring at is only her profile, half obscured by the loose sheet of her hair. She pulls her arms protectively over her chest, and although she doesn't move, I can practically feel her drawing away from me and into herself.

"I can't," I whisper again, my lips pressing into her hair as I speak. She still smells like lavender. She's always smelled like lavender. "I can't Meredith." And I seriously can't. I know my marriage has been nothing but shit for awhile, but it suddenly feels stone cold dead. I can't go back to that. Not when Meredith is here in front of me, so warm and familiar, even as everything else feels like it's unraveling. Not just unraveling, but falling apart so quickly and so completely that I can't begin to control it. Hell, I can't even begin to figure it out. But somehow my hand's found Meredith's waist, pulling her back towards me. She flinches almost imperceptibly before letting her head fall back to rest against my shoulder, her eyes still screwed resolutely shut. "I love you Meredith," I say softly. "I love you too much to go back."

That gets her eyes to open. Okay, I'll admit not exactly in the way I was hoping for. They're wide and frantic, and staring straight at me as she whirls around and backs towards the sink. Meredith shakes her head, just stammering "no" over and over again. I know I haven't said it before. And considering that the one time she told me she loved me, I went off and chose my wife, well…we probably don't have the best track record with this phrase. Still, I love her. _Oh god,_ I love her. But even as I apologize and explain and insist that I love her, she just keeps shaking her head.

"No Derek, no. You don't get to say that. Not now."

And suddenly my heart has dropped down into my stomach. I don't care that I'm a doctor and that's medically impossible, it's freaking dropped. Because she _was_ just kissing Finn. Not simply letting him kiss her, but pulling him down to her, kissing him back. Maybe there really is such a thing as too little, too late…maybe she has finally just given up on me.

Somehow I manage to speak, asking, "Why?" The word sounds hollow and unnatural, and I shift my weight anxiously, trying to read something behind the veil of tears hiding Meredith's face.

She just shakes her head, taking a shaky breath. Her voice starts out low and gasping, but quickly crescendos upward, until she's shouting as she falls against me. "I am _trying _to move on! I am trying not to _care_! I am trying to _hate _you here! You don't get to use that now!" Meredith's eyes are bright and bitter, and she seems caught between screaming and struggling to breath as her hand smacks against my chest, pushing me away.

I shouldn't be smiling, but I can't help it. At least this means there's still hope. At least this means super vet hasn't completely won her over. If Meredith would _just stop yelling _for a second… But she doesn't, and so I lean forward, kissing her as hard as I can to silence her. I'm expecting her to pull away, and resume telling me that I'm an ass she's trying really hard to hate here.

Only Meredith doesn't do that either.

She just reaches upward, her hand tangling into my hair, and yanking me towards her hard. Much harder then necessary. I groan, but not completely in protest, as she pulls us roughly backward until we slam against the sink. Apparently she's found the way to continue her argument wordlessly because her kisses are hard and biting, her point perfectly clear. And god…if she was anyone else, I wouldn't hesitate to plow straight ahead for some seriously angry bathroom sex. Just worry about talking later. But she isn't just anyone. She's Meredith, and so I pull away, bracing myself against the mirror as I look into her eyes. Something's different, but before I can figure out just what it is, Meredith gasps, losing her balance as I pull away from her. Her fingers suddenly cling tightly to my neck. As my hand moves instinctively to steady her, I realize what's different. The anger in her eyes has already dulled. It's dulled, faded, almost completely gone out. Instead she just looks cautious.

"Meredith," I murmur, leaning down to kiss her again. Soft, not hard like before, barely more then a whisper of skin against skin. "Say that you don't need Finn," I plead, my lips brushing against hers as I speak. But the caution in her eyes just deepens, even as she's clinging to me. And so I keep kissing her, unwilling to pull away, until finally I feel her tremble, her lips hesitantly meeting mine. "Say you still…love me…" I continue, letting my hand run through the long loose strands of her hair. "Mer…" I plead once more, my lips traveling down her neck and then slowly back up to find her mouth again.

"I," begins Meredith suddenly, her voice faint and shaky. "I won't say it. I won't say it because I can't love you. You're not _mine _to love." Her voice cracks and (before I have time to prepare myself for it) tears suddenly spill unchecked, causing her eyes to glisten and her cheeks to grow sleek and shiny. "Stop doing this to me Derek," she continues, her shoulders shaking as much as her voice, as she raises a hand to brush away some of her tears. "Please stop…"

I don't think I've ever felt like more of an asshole. It's not that she's crying exactly. I'm a doctor, I get people collapsing into tears around me more often then you might expect. And I've dealt with Addison crying many times. Back when we were interns, and Richard entrusted her to save a doomed patient, well after that baby died…I think I held her for a good three hours before she finally cried herself to sleep. I've even been around Meredith before when she's been crying. But this…_this_ is different. This is entirely because of me. The woman I love is sobbing almost hysterically, and it's all my fault.

And suddenly the decision I have been agonizing over for months is made. It's over. It's done. Everything is decided in an instant, and I know what I have to do. "I'm going to leave Addison," I say, the words practically spilling out of my mouth. Anything to stop the agony of watching Meredith cry like this. "I'm going to sign the papers. I'm going to make everything right Meredith, I swear. Just give me the chance to fix things." I reach out, wiping away her tears until she finally stops breathing in ragged gasps, and simply stands there, watching me warily.

"You're going to sign the papers?" she asks. Of course I am. Thankfully Addison and I never threw them out. They're still tucked in a bottom of a drawer at the trailer. That really ought to have been a sign, a clue from day one. When you both agree to hold onto the divorce papers, things probably aren't going to work out in the end. But before I get halfway through reassuring Meredith that I am completely serious, she's interrupting again, still shaking her head in disbelief. "Give me a reason to believe," she demands quietly.

A reason? If anyone deserves a reason, it's Meredith. I shake my head, trying to figure out how to explain to her what I feel. If I could just find a way to fit her inside my heart, she would understand that there's no way I can go home tonight and not sign the papers. "Why should you believe me?" I begin quietly, restating her question for her. "Why? Because…I didn't understand the first time. I didn't know how much I was going to lose by leaving you. I was an idiot. I thought it would pass." I laugh in disbelief, choking on the idea of ever getting over Meredith. Operating blind would actually be easier. But even as I insist, even as I tell her she is everything to me, I can sense that it's not enough. Her eyes are empty and uncertain, and she's _this close _to pulling away again. And so without the actual papers in hand to prove to her that I am serious, I go for the next best thing. Without really thinking, I reach down and yank off my wedding ring. I pull Meredith's hand towards me, uncurling the small clenched fist, and forcing the gold circle she'd held up between us to lie forsaken in the center of her palm.

"Believe me Meredith," I insist, not taking my eyes from hers even as she looks away to study the ring resting in her hand. She just stares at it for a long time, her mouth hanging slightly open. But finally, she raises her head again, and nods.

"I believe you Derek," she whispers.

"You do?" I ask. My eyes actually start to brim with tears, and I think I'm practically grinning as she nods again. I know that later I'll have to talk to Addison. Later things will be sad. Later the past eleven years will be ending. But this? Right now? _This_ is a beginning. "So you do still love me," I say, smiling down at Meredith.

She actually rolls her eyes at me, pausing to wipe away the last of her tears before speaking. "God you're conceited Derek. Would I be such a mess right now if I didn't?" She laughs at my expression, smirking and pressing her hand against my chest as she says, "Of course I still love you."

"I love you too," I echo, stepping closer to her.

"So I've heard." Her voice is still faint and a little bit shaken, but there's a definite smile beneath her words. I just grin at her some more, kissing the top of her nose before straightening up.

"I'm sorry," I begin, my voice turning serious. "About…everything." I lift my arms out helplessly, not even knowing where to begin.

"So am I." She reaches out, her finger pressing against my lips to silence me. "We have more then enough to apologize for tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. Derek, seriously we could apologize for a whole year here." I'm not sure what she possibly has to apologize for, but her finger is still pressed firmly against my lips, keeping me from speaking. "So right now, before we walk back out the door and have to actually start apologizing, for now…can we please just be happy?" She pulls her hand away from my mouth cautiously, as if expecting me to disagree with her and insist on a long drawn out apology right now. I just nod, leaning forward and kissing her again.

I think I hear the faint sound of my wedding ring falling to the ground, but I can't really care about that now because I can feel Meredith _smiling _as I kiss her.

"Derek?" she gasps, pulling away after a moment. My lips feel suddenly cold without her mouth against mine.

"Happy?" I ask hopefully, my eyes still trained on her lips.

She grins but shakes her head, saying, "We should wait." It sounds practical, but it's not quite a statement. It's more of a question, and Meredith's smiling as she speaks, her fingers looped tightly through mine.

"We should," I agree, stepping closer.

"You should talk to Addison first," she continues.

"I should."

I nod my head, but neither of us are moving away at all. She's still staring up at me, her eyes practically laughing as our mouths inch closer and closer until suddenly they're back together again. This time Meredith doesn't pull away, just reaches up to tangle her hands in my hair as we stumble backwards, pressing up against the wall. She fits so perfectly against me that I don't know how I ever settled for kissing anyone else. My hands drift down to her waist, finding the hem of her sweater and working it easily up her body. Meredith laughs, smiling as she pulls away from me slightly, her arms raised over her head as I peel off the sweater and toss it onto the floor. Clad now in just a tank top and her jeans, she starts to lean back into me, but halts halfway before our lips meet, her eyes instantly clouding over and turning gray.

"Meredith?" I question, reaching out to smooth a stray strand of her hair into place. But even as I move to touch her, she shies away, curling against the wall. I frown at her, my eyes searching her face for a clue, but she seems almost frozen. "Mer…baby, what's wrong?"

"Don't," she hisses immediately, her voice barely more then a whisper. Her skin has turned ashen and I suddenly realize she's not staring at me, but over my shoulder. Meredith clears her throat, her lips trembling visibly, before she tries to speak again. "Derek…umm…" she stammers, shaking her head. "There's someone here to see you." My stomach clenches instantly as Meredith slips completely out of my arms, kneeling down to grab her sweater.

I don't know why this has to happen now, after everything. But it is happening, I'm completely certain of that. And I can't keep staring at the wall for much longer.

So I heave a ragged sigh, turning around to focus on the motionless figure standing in the doorway, her name coming reluctantly to my lips.

"Addison…"

-----

_A/N 2 - So, this chapter was brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Mer/Der-catalyst, Finn Dandridge. He was a wee bit bolder this chapter. I almost found myself liking him for a moment, which freaked me out a little. Anyway, I don't think of him as normally being particularly bold, but Mer had just said that she still loved Derek, and he was leaving her alone in a bar with him, so he threw in a little bit of Finn-woo with the smooching.  
_

_Mer/Der, well...I did say there would be a lot of it. Hopefully you guys didn't mind the overlapping POVs. I tried to make them as different as possible while still being the same so that it wouldn't be too boring. _

_And Addison at the end? Now she gets her own taste of just what it might have been like for Derek to catch her with Mark. And well, Mer/Der were being stupid hooking up in the bathroom of a bar everyone they know goes to. So yes, they got caught by the wife…before he mentioned the whole I'm leaving you part. And now, angst and drama shall ensue!_

_Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews! I love them so much. They make me smiley. And I apologize for the length of this chapter, but I've been obsessing over it forever since it gave me the idea for the story, and well…it got long. Even the A/N got long. Next chapter will shrink down to normal size I believe. Now that you've read, please review!_


	8. Chapter 8: In Muddy Waters

_A/N 1 - Okay, this chapter picks up immediately from the end of the last chapter. Sorry if I wasn't clear in my A/N at the end, but Addison didn't catch the whole Mer/Der conversation. She only walked in to catch them kissing against the wall. Anyway, thank you so much for the fabulous reviews last chapter. I'm so thrilled you guys liked the chapter, and that the length was okay! Sorry this one took so long. In between school and getting distracted over exciting new Season 3 news, it's been difficult for me to write. But hopefully it turned out alright. Okay...here we go! _

_----- _

_Meredith_

You know the expression "If looks could kill…" well, I think I'm actually receiving just such a look right now. I mean, this is bad. There are not enough words to describe how seriously bad this is. Addison is glaring at me, looking like she thinks hitting me might be a good idea, and her eyes have turned cold and steely. Derek is just standing there, gaping at Addison but not actually saying anything. And me? Well, I still don't have my shirt on.

Like I said…this is seriously bad.

"Umm…" I begin quietly, once I've straightened up and pulled my sweater back on. I have no idea what to say, but the silence in here is overwhelming. I really just want to turn around and run into one of the stalls. That way I could hide and pretend that this isn't happening. "We…we were…" I continue as Addison's eyes just keep boring into me, her mouth drawn so thin that her lips have practically disappeared. "Umm…"

"Addison," says Derek hesitantly, saving me from my stammering. He takes a half step forward, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. "We…this is…it's not…" Well, apparently he's not much better then me when it comes to forming coherent sentences right now. I can't blame him though. His wife did just catch him with another woman. Another woman…I'm the other woman. Great. That sounds so cheap.

"You bastard," hisses Addison, cutting him off. She takes a step forward, her voice dropping low and dangerous. "How could you?"

"Addison, it's not what you think," continues Derek. Well, at least he's speaking coherently now. I'm not sure where he's going with that though. We were definitely doing what Addison thinks we were doing. Although…I suppose he could be referring to the whole leaving her thing he just promised me.

Addison's definitely going to hate me now.

"Not what I think?" she spits, raising her hands in the air. "Not what I think? Seriously Derek? Explain that one to me, because what I think is that you're cheating on me! With _Meredith_." Ah…and this is why Addison was dubbed Satan. The way she just said my name gave me chills. Not simply uncomfortable or somewhat awkward chills, but actual, scared-for-my-life chills. I reach out instinctively, gripping Derek's arm. As soon as my fingers brush against the fabric of his jacket my brain kicks back in, and I realize that touching Derek right now is probably a bad idea. I pull my hand back, but Derek is already turning towards me. His lips are pursed and his eyes seem surprisingly apologetic.

"It's complicated Addie," he says quietly, his gaze staying trained on my face.

"Complicated?" echoes Addison, her voice sharp and derisive. "Yeah I suppose it's real complicated, real hard to find time to both convince your wife you're trying _and _fuck your mistress. Hell of a day's work…" Derek doesn't answer her, just makes this angry noise. I'm not sure how to classify it, but it's deep and low in his throat, almost a growl. If it weren't for the fact that Addison just caught us, it would have me pushing him right back against the bathroom wall again.

But no. I need to focus here. Actually, I probably need to leave. Yeah…leaving sounds like a great idea.

"I should go," I whisper, looking up at Derek. "Let you two…" I shrug my shoulders, my voice trailing off. He nods, a frown creasing his face. "You know…talk," I add hesitantly. Is it bad that I want him to be ending things with Addison this instant? It probably is, but I can't help it. There's this little part of me flaring up that's afraid Derek is going to suddenly change his mind, and back out of everything he just promised me.

"Okay," he agrees simply before turning back to Addison. He takes another step forward, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Addie…we need to talk."

"No."

"No?" Derek looks at her disbelievingly. "What? I think it's pretty clear that we need to talk."

"No," repeats Addison, but she's not looking at him at all. She's staring straight at me, her body clearly blocking my way out the door. I halt, barely having made it two steps. There's no way I'm going to push past her right now. The light in her eyes is like nothing I've ever seen before. It's completely un-Addison. "No…she doesn't get to leave. I want to know first."

"You want to know? Know what Addison?" asks Derek, his voice growing annoyed. "Let her by. You and I need to talk."

But Addison keeps staring at me, shaking her head slightly. "Would it have been so hard to just say yes?" she asks.

"Umm…" I begin, glancing back and forth between Derek and Addison. I think she's talking to me, but I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about. "Sorry, I…"

"I asked you if you were sleeping with my husband and you said no," continues Addison, cutting me off. Ah so that's what she's talking about. I shake my head, but she just barrels on. "I asked you, and you looked me straight in my eyes and _lied _to me. You know, I thought we were friends. I was worried about you when you were sick. I was happy for you and the vet, and this is how you repay me?" Okay, first of all, I doubt she was ever actually happy for Finn and I. At least not real-happy, just pseudo-happy because it threw another wrench between Derek and I. And second of all, I didn't lie to her. It might be a lie now, but I didn't actually lie _to_ her.

"No," I hear myself gasp. While I want to defend myself, I don't really think right now is the best time for that. But apparently my mouth isn't giving me much of a choice. "I didn't lie to you," I continue. "I hadn't…I hadn't slept with him when you asked me. I'm sorry…" I wish my voice wasn't coming out so weak and trembling. "But Addison, I swear I wasn't lying. I wasn't sleeping with Derek then."

"_Then?_" she echoes bitterly, and I wince, realizing what I've just admitted. "You little whore."

Hmmm…that sounds surprisingly familiar. Although last time, it was coming from the other Shepherd in the room. And last time, I could at least get angry and indignant. Derek was being an ass. Addison though…I don't have a reply for her. I close my eyes, shaking my head slightly as I lean back against the wall. I think I'm whispering some sort of apology, but I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it isn't enough. I'm pretty much wrecking her marriage here. There isn't any sort of way to adequately apologize for that.

"Addison, you have no right to talk to Meredith like that." My eyes fly open in time to catch Derek stepping past me, as if to shield me from her. "None at all," he says in a voice that is practically shaking with restrained anger. Going by the way his hands are clenched into tight fists, his shoulders ridged, I'm guessing he's thinking about that night in New York. The one with Addison and Mark. If so, he does have a point. (One that I'm absolutely not going to bring up though.)

"No right? She's screwing my husband. How the hell do you expect me to talk to her Derek?" She shakes her head angrily, bending down to grab the purse I hadn't realized she'd dropped. Derek sighs and runs his hand through his hair in frustration,

"Addie…" he tries again, this time managing to make his voice gentler. She seems to soften slightly, nodding her head and finally meeting Derek's eyes. "This isn't Meredith's fault," he continues. "She's not the one you should be angry at."

"Oh, so it's not her fault she's a slut?" snaps Addison suddenly, her face contorting angrily.

"Addison…" He sounds just as furious as she did, and I have a feeling that they are about to start shouting over me in just a few seconds. (I really hope nobody else at Joe's needs to pee tonight.)

"Derek, it's okay," I interrupt quickly, managing to find my voice again. The last thing any of us need is for this to turn into a huge fight while we're all still in the bathroom. "You don't need to defend me." He just whirls around to look at me as if that is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Seriously Derek," I insist, trying to get him to understand.

"But Mer," he starts to protest, shaking his head. "She called you a whore." I raise an eyebrow at this, tilting my head to the side to look up at him.

"Yes," I breathe, speaking softly but pointedly. I manage to bite back the remark that she probably learned it from him, because seriously, right now I need Derek on my side. Once Addison is no longer looking daggers at me, then we can discuss Derek calling me a whore. But he understands what I'm referring to anyway because he winces visibly, his blue eyes darkening.

"Sorry," he mouths, his hand reaching out to trace the curve of my wrist.

"You are unbelievable!" The sound of Addison's voice turns us both back around to face her. "Seriously unbelievable, Derek," she continues, her voice wavering between a shriek and something far more shattered. "I catch you _cheating _on me, and you act as if it's my fault for interrupting!" She shakes her head, tears starting to spill down her flushed and splotchy cheeks. "You know what though? Whatever. Whatever, Derek. Go ahead, finish fucking her. It's obviously what you'd rather be doing. See if I care!" Without waiting for Derek to reply, Addison spins around on her heel and storms out of the bathroom. The door swings open violently, before slamming shut with a resounding smack.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, as I slump back against the wall. "Wow…" I whisper, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead.

"Meredith," begins Derek, reaching out to lay his fingertips on my waist as he speaks. "I'm sorry she called you a whore. I'm sorry _I _called you a whore." He sounds so anxious that I almost want to tease him, or at least say something back. But I suddenly feel so overwhelmed that before I even realize it, I've leaned forward, burying my face against his chest. Derek's arms wrap instantly around me, pulling me tightly to him as he strokes my hair. He leans forward, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay, and I just can't help it. I start to sob, my tears staining his shirt as the sound of my sobbing is muffled by his body. This is all just…I don't even know how to explain it honestly. It's just so much more then I ever imagined would happen today.

I don't know how long we stay like that, but Derek just holds me until all my tears have been spilt. I straighten up, wiping my eyes dry with the back of my hand. "Sorry," I murmur, reaching out to touch the now-soaking fabric of his shirt.

"Don't be," says Derek seriously, catching my fingers and bringing them to his lips. "Don't be sorry Mer. Everything is going to…I'm going to do everything right this time. I promise." I nod my head, looking down at my feet to help fight the urge to simply curl back up in his arms. And that's how I spot it, the tiny gold circle laying neglected beneath a sink. I slip away from Derek, bending down to grab it.

"Here," I say, holding the ring out to him. Derek just frowns at me, shaking his head.

"Meredith?"

"Take it…it's too nice a ring to just leave on the floor of a bathroom." I smile faintly, wishing there was a way around what I'm about to say. But I had wished for a better explanation then "She's my wife" for months, and Addison deserves more then the total lack of explanation she just got. "Go find Addison. She'll listen to you better if I'm not around."

"I have nothing to say to her. Not after the way she talked about you." He folds his arms over his chest, looking unbelievably stubborn.

"Derek," I say disbelieving. "She just walked in on you taking off my shirt. Obviously she's not going to have good things to say about me." I sigh, glancing down at the ring in my hand, before resolutely handing it back to him. "She's your wife."

"No. Not anymore." I frown at him, shaking my head. He needs to stop being so stubborn, because I'm not capable of continuing to insist that he leave me to go find Addison for much longer.

"Yes. Technically," I manage to say, my voice shaking slightly. Derek stares at me, the deep blue circles of his eyes boring into me until I'm pretty sure I've stopped breathing. I'm just floating here, suspended in front of his eyes. It's really not fair because if he protests one more time, I'm not going to be able to resist. I'll just be taking him back to my house and proving Addison right. That I really am a whore.

But Derek finally nods his head, saying, "Okay Mer. I'll go find her now if that's what you want." I nod my head weakly, my eyes going straight to his hand as he moves to slip the ring into his pocket. I'm utterly pathetic because that has me sighing with relief. I just can't help it though. He put the ring in his pocket, not back on his finger. I glance back up at Derek to find him smiling at me. "I meant it Mer. I'm leaving her," he says, reaching out to trace the outline of my still damp cheek. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Yes," I say faintly, but Derek just looks at me skeptically. "I want to believe you," I amend after a moment. "I'm trying really hard to believe you."

"Okay," Derek agrees. Before I can get in another word, he's leaning in, pressing his lips against mine. It's soft and quick, and I've barely started to kiss him back before he's pulling away again. "I'm going to go find her then," he says, his hands still cupping my face. "Will you be alright here?"

"Yeah, of course," I answer softly. And somehow I even manage to smile as he pulls away and walks back out the door, leaving me alone again.

I just stand there for a long time, my mind still reeling from the past hour. But finally, I shuffle over to the mirror. My face is blotchy from crying too much, my eyes slightly swollen and ringed in red. I curse quietly as I turn on the faucet, bending down to bathe my face in the cold water. It doesn't do much to improve my appearance, but at least it helps to ease the throbbing pain that's starting up behind my eyes.

Slowly I turn away from the mirror, walking back over to the door and out into the bar. It's darker in the bar, and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, but as soon as they do, I wish they hadn't. Derek apparently didn't have to look very far to find Addison because they're both sitting on barstools at the counter, their voices loud and argumentative, carrying easily across the room. Nearly everyone in the bar is watching them, but a handful of people have spotted me, and I swear I can hear my name traveling like a whisper from table to table. This is seriously bad. I'm recognizing way too many faces from the hospital right now.

I need to leave this instant, but somehow my legs seem to have forgotten how to move. Glancing frantically around the room, I catch sight of Callie and George sitting at a table together. Before I even realize what's happening, she's yanked George to his feet and the two of them are crossing over to me.

"Mer?" George splutters, taking in my tear-stained face in between glances back at the arguing Shepherds. "What's going on? Is he seriously leaving her for you?"

"Umm…" I start to stammer, wringing my hands.

"Why didn't you tell us you'd been sleeping with him? I mean…have you really been sleeping with him?"

"Oh god…oh god…oh god," I mutter, shaking my head. Seeing as how George has figured this all out, I'm guessing that by tomorrow morning, the whole hospital will know. _Everything._

"George, stop it," says Callie suddenly. "She doesn't need you pestering her right now. She just needs you to drive her home."

Her hand presses into the small of my back, herding George and I out the door and into the cooler air of the parking lot. I just nod mutely. I can't think of anything to say, but I've never felt more grateful to anyone in my entire life then I do to Callie right now.

_Derek_

I'm not sure what to say to her, and I certainly did not expect to find her so quickly after leaving Meredith. But there she is, sitting at the bar, drink already firmly in hand. I'm not looking forward to this conversation, to say the least. It was already seeming pretty difficult when it was just a vague idea in my head, when it was something that I could do later, calmly, and certainly not here. But, I suppose it's way too late for that now.

"The usual Joe," I say, walking over to lean against the bar. I sidle down into the empty seat next to Addison, but she doesn't acknowledge me. She just keeps staring straight ahead, nursing her drink.

"Sure thing Doc," says Joe, glancing skeptically back and forth between Addison and I. However, he doesn't say anything else, just shrugs and turns away to get me my scotch.

"Addison," I begin, once I've taken a long drag from my drink. She doesn't look at me, but I can see her whole body tense up. "Addie," I try again, reaching out to rest my hand against her wrist. "Addie…I'm sorry."

"Don't 'Addie' me," she snaps, suddenly spining around to face me as she yanks her wrist away from my hand.

"Fine…Addison," I agree. "Look, I'm sorry. This wasn't how I wanted you to find out."

She laughs bitterly, shaking her head, and I suddenly see how much she's been crying. "Right. If you cared so much about secrecy you wouldn't have been having sex in a freaking public bathroom." She says this a little too loudly, and I can hear some of the surrounding conversations start to die down. Joe clears his throat, and I look up apologetically.

"We weren't _actually_ having sex in your bathroom Joe," I explain, pausing to glare at Addison. "Meredith and I were just talking."

"Right. What sort of conversation requires you to take off her shirt?" snaps Addison.

"Addison…don't," I say angrily, leaning my head against my hands. I chance a glance at Joe, but he just shakes his head and moves away. I have a hunch the only reason he isn't giving me a hard time for undressing people in his bar is because he's so fond of Meredith.

Addison sets down her drink, her mouth opening and closing several times before she finally finds the words she's searching for. "You're leaving me," she says quietly, shaking her head. "You're leaving me, and you didn't even have the decency to tell me first."

I sigh, nodding my head. "Addison…Addie, please…this isn't how I wanted it to end. I was going to talk to you, but…everything…I don't know. Everything just sort of happened." I shrug helplessly. It's not a good explanation. After eleven years, Addison deserves more, but that's about all I can come up with. It's Meredith afterall. She seems to defy logic and reason and everything remotely close to me behaving sensibly. "She's Meredith…" I hear myself say, the words coming out before I can stop them.

"She's Meredith?" echoes Addison incredulously, practically spitting out Meredith's name. "God Derek, I know she's Meredith. But what the hell's that supposed to mean? Just because you seem to think the world stops turning for that whore doesn't mean everyone else does."

"Stop calling her that," I say angrily, setting my drink back down on the counter a little too loudly.

"What?" asks Addison innocently, her eyes suddenly sparkling coldly. "A whore?"

"Yes. Stop it Addison."

"Why? She's been screwing _you_ while you've been married to _me_. Call a spade a spade Derek. She's a whore."

I shake my head, my jaw clenched, but unable to keep back my reply. "Well then, using your definition, so are you." The next thing I know is a sudden wash of something cold and wet against my front as Addison launches her drink at my face. I curse, grabbing a stack of napkins to mop what I can of the alchohol from my clothing. "Damnit Addison," I mutter as I finally sit back down. "I liked that jacket."

"Well you know what Derek? I liked my marriage. At least, I thought I did." Addison shakes her head, her voice rising angrily. "But you know what I think now Derek? I think coming out to Seattle was the stupidest thing I've ever done. I left Mark for this? To watch you cheat on me with an intern and then call me a whore? Biggest mistake of my life," she hisses angrily.

"Addison, we should go outside…" I begin, looking around the bar at the room full of faces turned curiously towards us. But before I can continue pressing her to stop being so vocal, something that she said clicks in my mind. "What do you mean," I ask cautiously. "You left Mark for this? You said he was a mistake."

"Yeah well I lied," Addison says bluntly, glaring into my eyes. "He wasn't just one horrible mistake. I stayed with him while you were with your _precious _Meredith. I stayed with him, but I left to come back to you…and you know what?" I think she's still shouting, saying something petty about how Mark was better in bed then I ever was. But it doesn't matter, I can barely hear her. My fingernails are digging into the counter to keep myself from grabbing her, and her voice is just this loud buzzing sound in my head. I think the room flares white for a second, and when it returns to normal I'm shouting back at her, the words bubbling hot and angry out of my throat.

"You adulteress bitch," I hiss, the words from several months ago returning to my lips. "Do you have any idea how much I hurt Meredith for you? How much I broke her for the sake of our marriage?" I shake my head disbelievingly, the two of us have somehow gotten to our feet and are glaring at each other eye to eye.

"Guys…guys," says a voice that I think belongs to Joe, urging us to sit back down or at least stop screaming at each other.

"It's been nothing but lies for months Addison. I'd never would've taken you back if I'd known."

"Suddenly this is all my fault?" asks Addison, letting out a short bark of a laugh. "Oh right…how could I forget. Derek Shepherd, the great martyr. I want a divorce Derek."

"You think?" I ask disbelievingly. "That's what this whole conversation has been about Addison. But I suppose you were too busy thinking about cheating on me with my best friend to pay attention. Trust me, we are beyond over."

"Good," she spits back at me.

"And I want you out of my house by tomorrow," I add, my mind still reeling from the idea of her and Mark together for _months_ in Manhatten.

"You mean your trailer?" She yanks her purse off the bar, still glaring at me. "Don't worry Derek, I know better then to spend tonight there. Seeing as you can't keep your hands off of her for five minutes, I'm sure I'd wake up to find Meredith in my bed." She pivots around, storming out of the bar, wobbling slightly on the tall spokes of her heels.

As the door swings shut, the bar fills with an uneasy quiet. I sigh heavily, looking around to find a room of people carefully avoiding meeting my eyes. A hand clamps unexpectedly down on my shoulder, and I turn around to spot Alex Karev shaking his head at me.

"Dude, that was rough," he says, and I just nod my head in answer. I can't really think of anything to say. Honestly, right now I only want Meredith. She would understand why my head is spinning, why I'm so furious that I would think nothing of beating up my ex-best friend if he was standing here in front of me right now. So I slap a wad of bills onto the counter to pay for both Addison's drink and my own, turning away and heading towards the back of the bar.

I push open the door to the bathroom hopefully, but the room is silent and completely empty. I shake my head in frustration, turning back around to find Dr. Torres standing in the doorway. I can't read her expression, but her voice is almost gentle.

"Meredith?" she asks. I just nod my head, sighing with exhaustion as I shove my hands into my pockets. "Yeah…she went home awhile ago."

Suddenly, the fact that she's not here right now is worse then everything else. I lean back against the sink, my head dropping down to rest in my hands.

"Come on," Dr. Torres continues, and this time her voice is definitely gentle. "My car is just outside." She shakes her head, smiling slightly as I follow her back out the door. "We'll give you a ride too."

-----

_A/N 2 - So, Callie comes to the rescue for both Meredith and Derek. I kinda like her, and she seems like the sort of person who would see what they need and just sort of do it, without a whole bunch of fuss. So, she's the one to take them both home. Also...Derek found out about Mark. I've always thought it was unfair that he never knew about that when he came clean about still loving Meredith. So...in this story, he finally knows. And he's mad, very mad. Because well, he took Addison back over Meredith because of his marriage, and it turns out Addison had totally disregarded all of that for months anyway. As for Mer/Der, all their problems haven't been solved, but right now everything is sort of overwhelming them, so they haven't sat down to deal with all their baggage. But there will be more of them soon. Yeah...that's about it. Thanks for reading, please review!_


	9. Chapter 9: Beauty in the Breakdown

_A/N 1 - Okay, a bit of a less drama-heavy chapter. This is a bit fillery, sort of the breath after the storm that was the last two chapters. And, it's pretty Mer/Der heavy from Derek's POV. Anyway, I don't think this chapter needs much of an explanation. So, here it is..._

_----- _

_Meredith_

When George and Callie finally pull up in front of my house, I slip out of the car with a quick thanks, doing my best to fight back a sigh of relief. It's not that I'm ungrateful to them for rescuing me, because seriously, Callie owes me nothing. And she saved me. I'm incredibly grateful, it's just that there is a fixed limit as to how many of George's questions I can handle right now. He asked me at least a dozen before we had even pulled out of the parking lot at Joe's, my one word answers doing apparently nothing at all to discourage him. And I know he means well. I get that. It's the George-thing, the bumbling goodwill and concern and slightly invasive friendship. And I'm glad to have it back, I really am. It's better then the pretending I don't exist thing he had going on before. But…when I'm in a car with him and his girlfriend, I honestly just don't want to talk about what I was thinking, or why I slept with Derek, or how I slept with Derek. (And seriously, I don't know why George asked that. I hope he's able to grasp _how_ I had sex with Derek on his own.)

So yeah, I'm glad to be home. No more noise, no more people staring at me, no more overly personal questions. Just the dark silence of the front hallway, and the distant sound of George's car pulling out of the drive. I walk through the house, calling softly for Izzie. It's pretty late to still be awake, but it's not like she has to be up early tomorrow. And lately, I've heard her rustling around the house in the dead of the night fairly often. Still she's not downstairs, and I hesitate outside the door to her bedroom, wondering if I should just leave her alone. I shuffle around for a moment, taking my hand on and off the doorknob, but before I have the chance to actually make a decision, the door swings open.

"Izzie?" I gasp, stumbling backwards in shock. "What the…" She just frowns at me, running a hand through the long tangle of her hair.

"Want to come in?" she asks abruptly.

"Umm…yeah, I wanted to…I didn't want to wake you," I stammer, still startled by the door's sudden opening. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"The same." Izzie flashes me an empty smile before turning back around and walking into her room, leaving the door wide open for me to follow. I hesitate for just a second, but I think I have way too much going through my head to actually manage falling asleep any time soon. So I follow her in, flopping down beside her on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. It's dark in her room, but the window is wide open with the curtains blowing and almost ghostly moonlight streaming in, causing weird shadows to creep across the walls. It's kind of creepy, but it's also kind of beautiful, and so I just let the dark shapes and patches of silvery light distract me. I should probably be doing the concerned friend thing, seeing if Izzie needs to talk or anything.

But I _just _got back together with Derek.

As in, literally, under an hour ago, I took back the man I've been ridiculously and painfully in love with for the past eight months. That kinda seems like a big deal. I mean, not as big as your fiancé dying obviously. But still…pretty damn big. And it _just_ happened. I should be jumping up and down right now, or calling up Cristina, or…I don't know…doing something though. If only I was one of those girls who keeps a diary. Then I would have something to do. I mean, this would have to be the sort of day that gets a super-sized entry with pink and purple pens and lots of underlining everything. But I've never been one of those girls. The only diary I ever had was a gift from some remote uncle when I was in the seventh grade. I wrote a total of one entry, and that entry had nothing more then the date, my name, and what I'd had for breakfast in it. I wish I was one of those diary-keeping girls. Well, not really because I'm pretty sure I'd have to find a new best friend. Cristina would probably refuse to talk to me on principle. But still, it would be nice. Then I'd be able to react to this properly. I'd also probably be able to focus and say something helpful to Izzie. Instead, I'm just me, and I can't seem to think of anything to say. I'm simply staring at shadows on a ceiling. Yeah…real helpful.

"I can't sleep." Izzie's voice breaks the silence, and I turn my head to the side to look at her.

"Yeah. Me neither," I agree quietly. Her eyes have that slightly puffy look of someone who's been crying not too long ago. Come to think of it, mine probably do to. I wish there was something I could do about her crying all the time, but right now, nothing is coming to mind. I'm seriously worse then Cristina at the comforting-friend thing tonight. I shift nervously, letting us drift back into silence as I drum my fingers against the wall. Izzie scoots up onto her elbows, staring down at me.

"You're freaking out," she says evenly. It's not really a question, but I raise an eyebrow indignantly.

"I'm not freaking out. Why would you think I'm freaking out?"

Izzie shrugs. "Because you are."

"I'm not even saying anything," I stammer. "How could I be freaking out?" Izzie doesn't answer, just matches my raised eyebrow with one of her own. "I'm not freaking out," I repeat once more, crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest. Izzie shrugs and flops back down onto the bed, rolling her eyes at me as she does. I just glare resolutely at the wall. I'm not freaking out. There isn't even anything for me to be freaking out about.

Okay…well, I suppose there's the fact that the last time I saw Derek, he was arguing with Addison. About me. In a bar filled with people I know.

And then there's the fact that he's apparently getting a divorce, and he and I are being something again. I'm not even sure what that _something _is exactly. But I did take him back, gave my heart back to the man who completely shattered it. (Well, I don't think I ever got it back from him the first time. But now it's his again. Officially.)

Oh, and…he loves me.

Derek Shepherd loves me. _Loves me_. Me, Meredith Grey…the drunken, sex-fiend, screw up of an intern. No idea how that happened.

But yeah…why would I freak out about that? There's nothing to freak out about. Nothing at all.

"What's wrong Mer?" prods Izzie again, but this time her voice is gentler and less accusing. (See, bad friend…I'm the one who's supposed to be asking her that. Not the other way around.) I sigh, shifting against the pillow before turning to fix her with my best pretend smile.

"Nothing's wrong Iz. I'm fine."

She seems oddly disappointed that everything is alright, because she groans loudly and rolls onto her side, away from me. "You know…you guys don't have to keep doing this," she mutters.

"Doing what?"

"_This._ What you're doing right now. Being so cautious around me, like you're all afraid I've gone so fragile that no one else can even have a problem. Like I'm so messed up that the thought of one of you having a bad day is going to destroy me."

"Izzie…" I say gently, but she just shakes her head.

"No. All I ever get is people whispering around me. So what if I cry all day? I'm still Izzie. I'm still your friend. And you Mer, are so un-fine right now it's not even funny. So seriously, just tell me what's wrong already!" She flips back over, glaring at me ferociously. It seems incredibly selfish to start talking about Derek, and I happen to think that I look perfectly fine right now. And even if I was slightly, _slightly _un-fine, Izzie would still be a thousand times more un-fine then me. Still…I think I know what she means. When my mother was in the hospital, I got so sick of people worrying around me and asking me how I was in these carefully sensitive voices that I thought I was going to scream. So I sigh reluctantly, but turn to meet Izzie's eyes. I might as well dive right in.

"Derek's leaving Addison."

Izzie doesn't respond at first, just stares at me, her eyes wide. But finally, she whispers, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," I affirm. "He told me today." I pause for a second, but Izzie just nods her head, urging me to continue. "And…he told me he loves me." It feels odd to say it out loud, the words rolling strangely off my tongue. I hesitate again, but Izzie gasps and reaches out to squeeze my arm. I feel a smile start to spread across my face, and I continue. "Umm…I took him back. Probably stupid, but I did. Oh, and we had sex. At the prom." I catch myself too late, just as the word prom slips off my tongue.

"Oh." The sound is soft, with just a twinge of pain to it. Right, this is why I wasn't supposed to be talking tonight. It's barely been two minutes, and I've already drove us straight to the night Denny died.

"Sorry," I whisper, turning to look at Izzie. Her usually warm brown eyes seem cold and empty. I open my mouth to change the subject, but she shakes her head resolutely.

"Good," she says after a moment, a determined smiling fixing itself on her face. "It's like a rule, you know. People are supposed to have sex at prom."

"Yeah…" I say hesitantly, still not sure how to continue.

"Yeah," she echoes, suddenly shifting to rest her head against my shoulder. "So, that's why you're freaking out?" she asks, her voice coming out small and thin.

"Umm." I frown, nodding my head. "I guess so. I mean, I thought everything was over. I thought I was moving on, that I _had _to move on. And now…with everything, it seems like it's the total opposite." I shrug and settle deeper into the pillows. Honestly, I don't really know why I'm freaking out. I mean, why I would hypothetically be freaking out. Because…I'm not. I'm totally fine. "It's just a lot."

"Right," whispers Izzie. I think I can feel her shivering slightly. It might just be that she's got her windows wide open and it's not exactly warm out. But I can't help but think it's something more. Something that is still utterly and completely Denny. She lifts her hand into the air, tracing a slow curving arc over us as she says, "You thought you'd lost him." Her hand falls heavily back down to the bed, and this time I'm sure she's shivering. "Lost him," she repeats, the words trembling as they leave her lips.

"Izzie," I say gently. "Iz…we can talk about something else." I look at her hopefully, but, even in the dark, I can see that her eyes are already shinning with tears. She just shakes her head frantically, murmuring something that I can't even begin to make out over her effort to hold back her tears. The next thing I know, Izzie's repressed sobs aren't so repressed anymore. She turns her face into the pillow, her shoulders shaking, and the sound of muffled crying fills the room. I wish I knew how to say just what she needs to hear, but I don't. I'm not even sure there is a right thing to say to her. Instead, I just loop my arm around her and pull her into a hug. I don't know what to do other then let her cry.

_Derek_

"You know, I don't actually live here," I say as the car turns onto a familiar block that unmistakably belongs to Meredith.

"Yeah…Callie, he doesn't. Why exactly are we taking him here again?" asks George instantly. She doesn't really give him a reply, just a look, and I'm not about to protest further. Not when they're taking me to Meredith. Instead I sigh heavily, settling deeper into the back seat and staring out the window. I hadn't really wanted them to give me a ride. I haven't drank so much that I can't drive, after all. However, Addison's already taken the car, presumably to drive back to the trailer and pack. That's the problem with sharing a car to work the day you end things with your wife. It makes getting around much more difficult. So I'm stuck here, listening to George and his girlfriend talk and watching as the car pulls very deliberately into the drive of Meredith's house. As soon as the engine dies down, I swing the door open, calling my thanks to Dr. Torres and George as I get out.

"It's Callie," she says, and to my surprise follows me out of the car. "Come on George," she adds, leaning against the open window. "It's nearly two am. Let's just stay here." I glance down at my watch. _1:53_ She's right, which means I've got to get up again in three and a half hours. I groan but follow them up the stairs and into the house. I love this place. It feels so completely like Meredith; warm, comfortable, and a little messy around the edges. I breathe in the vaguely floral scent that fills the room as Dr. Torres…I mean Callie, wanders towards the darkened kitchen. The house is deathly quiet and its been months since I was last here, still I could probably find the way to Meredith's room with my eyes closed. I'm halfway to the staircase when George speaks, stopping me mid-step.

"Dr. Shepherd?" I turn around, nodding but not saying anything. George shuffles his feet, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Umm…" he begins hesitantly. I nod again, casting an impatient glance towards the staircase. "I know you're my boss," he continues, the words tumbling out in a rush. "And I know it's probably not my place to say this…but maybe it is. Meredith's my roommate, she's my friend. She's part of my family really, so I'm just…I'm going to say it." He pauses, looking anxiously at me as if waiting for a reply. I'm not sure what to say. He obviously wants to tell me something about Meredith.

I nod my head. "Okay."

He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor. "Don'thurtherthistime." The words come out strung together, completely garbled up, and I honestly have no idea what he's saying.

"What?"

"Don't hurt her this time," repeats George, this time speaking clearly and meeting my eyes.

"Oh…I don't want to hurt…"

"I know you don't want to hurt her," interrupts George quietly. "Nobody _wants _to hurt Meredith, but you consistently end up doing it." I frown, crossing my arms over my chest, but George just keeps on talking. "Last time, when you left her before, she was…well, she was pretty much destroyed. And I know you know she was sad and upset and everything, but I promise you that however bad you think it got, it was actually at least ten times worse." I wince and look away.

"What are you saying?" I ask, my voice sounding hollow. "That you wish I wasn't back?" George hesitates for a moment, but then shakes his head.

"No. No, not that. It's good you're back…for Meredith it's good you're back. She needs you." George's eyes darken, and for a moment he almost looks angry. "She wrecks everyone and everything around you she needs you so much," he adds quietly.

"Oh…" I say again, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I don't really know how to reply to that, so I nod my head and fall silent. George doesn't make any move to speak. We just stare at each other for a moment, until we simultaneously seem to grasp how awkward this conversation is.

"Yeah," says George, shifting towards the kitchen as I take a half-step towards the stairs. "She deserves to be happy for once. So just, don't hurt her again Dr. Shepherd." I nod my head, and turn to walk up the staircase. I don't think I was particularly cheerful tonight to begin with, but George effectively sobered my mood even further. I don't like to think about just how destroyed Meredith was when I left. It makes me feel like the worst sort of asshole in the world. I sigh and knock on the door to her room. She doesn't answer. Judging by the utter quiet up here, she's probably asleep. Still…I just want to see her. I open the door as quietly as I can, stepping into the doorway of her room.

Only…it's empty.

Her bed is unmade, just like it used to be. The covers tangled up and strewn about, pillows overflowing from the bed onto the floor. I take a few steps into the room, taking in the laundry basket filled with clothes halfway to being folded, the stack of medical journals over by her window, an old photograph on her bedside table. I pick it up, switching on the lamp to examine it. It has to be her family. That tiny family she had for just a little while, her mother and father standing side by side yet not touching, and Meredith, her blonde hair in pigtails, staring straight at the camera. She looked stubborn even then. I smile at the image of a five-year-old Meredith, and set it back down on the table. It's not as good as the real, living, breathing, twenty-nine-year-old Meredith though. I sigh, feeling suddenly anxious. I don't know where else she'd be but here. I hear footsteps, and walk back into the hallway, hoping to find her. Instead, I come face to face with George and Callie making their way up the flight of stairs.

"What are you…" begins George.

"Meredith," I answer, glancing back at her empty room. "She's not there. It's two in the morning, shouldn't she be in her room?" Callie smirks at my question and I frown. I hadn't meant to sound so anxious, but seriously, where is she? George doesn't seem even slightly worried, just tilts his head towards an open door further down the hall.

"Try Izzie's room," he says, as he slips his hand through Callie's, leading them towards his own room. "She's in there a lot." I nod as they disappear, the door closing behind them and muffling the sounds of their voices. I walk hesitantly down the hall, glad that the door is open already. It's one thing to walk into Meredith's room unannounced, but it's another thing altogether to barge into the room of her grieving roommate. Still…O'Malley was right. She is with Izzie. I freeze in the doorway, not wanting to disturb either of the sleeping women. I swallow hard, just staring at Meredith. She's changed out of the jeans and sweater she wore earlier, and the sheer white shirt she's wearing now had ridden up high around her waist. She looks so beautiful, her blonde hair strewn across the pillows, her features peaceful…serene even. Part of me wants to walk right in and gather her up in my arms, but something is holding me frozen on the outskirts of the bedroom. She's sleeping, I'd be disturbing her. Meredith didn't even say I could come over. Maybe she just wants to be alone tonight. Feeling suddenly anxious, I sigh and start to retreat into the hallway.

"Derek?" The voice is soft and thick with sleep, but definitely Meredith's. I turn back to find her rubbing a hand over her eyes, blinking up at me disbelievingly. "Why are…umm…" She shakes her head slightly, pursing her lips, and scooting down the bed past Izzie.

"Sorry…I can go," I begin awkwardly, but Meredith just shushes me. She turns back to glance at her friend, adjusting the blankets around her, before getting up and walking past me into the hallway. "I didn't mean to wake you up," I continue, and Meredith shakes her head, stifling a yawn.

"No, I'm glad you're here," she says softly, leaning her head against my chest as she speaks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Meredith nods, her hair rustling against the leather of my jacket. She doesn't say anything for a moment, but when she does, her voice is muffled against me. "You talked to Addison?" I nod, bending down and pressing my lips to the top of my head.

"I did. It's…well, it's definitely over."

She looks back up, raising an eyebrow at me. "I heard you both yelling at Joe's."

"Yeah," I agree. Meredith doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at me, so I carry on. "I swear we ended it Mer. She's leaving. Hell, she's probably trashing the trailer and moving her stuff out as we speak." Meredith nods, folding her arms over her chest. Still…she doesn't speak, just watches me, her green eyes trained steadily on my face. "What is it Mer?" I ask hesitantly. "You don't believe me?"

"No, it's not that," she answers, finally speaking. She smiles dryly, shaking her head. "I heard how loudly you two were fighting. I believe you. It's just…something's wrong."

"Something's wrong?" I echo, looking down at her. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I don't know…you tell me. You…" She reaches up, her hand landing gently on the side of my cheek, turning my face towards her. "Something's wrong," she repeats, her eyes boring into me. I don't know how she does it, how she picks up on the little threads of thoughts and feelings running through me, and somehow reads all the emotions exactly right. "Something happened to you," she insists, her eyes still searching my face. I sigh heavily, looping my arms around her waist, hands folding against the small of her back.

"She stayed with Mark," I say quietly, but somehow the words sound unnaturally loud.

"Oh…"

"In New York, after I left…they just…stayed together. She never told me, simply let me think it was a one time thing. Stupid I know…why wouldn't my wife stay with my best friend?" I shake my head, switching the order of the words. "My best friend stay with my wife…" Either way it still sounds wrong…sounds cheap and cruel.

"Derek, I'm sorry," says Meredith quietly, rising up onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips to mine. She doesn't kiss me, just stands there pressed against me, her hands running through my hair. I sigh, breathing in the faint smell of lavender that still hangs around her, as she finally opens her mouth and kisses me slowly. My arms tighten around her, bringing her closer to me as some of the pain starts to melt away. After a moment though, Meredith pulls back, leaning against my hands and looking up into my eyes. "She should have told you. She should have, but don't be too mad Derek. She was probably afraid she would loose you if she mentioned it. You were already angry and, well…" Meredith pauses, shrugging her shoulders as a sad smile flits across her face. "You aren't exactly someone people want to loose." Her voice falters slightly, and I feel her grip on me tighten. I don't deserve her. Somehow, Meredith's the one comforting me when I'm the one who "destroyed her." It should be the other way around.

"Mer," I begin. "If I'd known that…if Addison had told me, I would have signed the papers in a heartbeat." Meredith closes her eyes, resting her head on my shoulder as I speak. "I took her back because I had to, not because I wanted to. I never wanted to leave you. And now," I shake my head, laughing bitterly. "Now it turns out I didn't even have to, and I left you for nothing." Meredith snaps back up, her eyes shinning. I can feel her trembling slightly in my arms. "I never would have left Mer…"

"I know," she whispers, biting her lip. "But you did Derek. You left, and now everything's changed. We've both changed. And now, everybody knows. I mean, we're going to go to work tomorrow, and _everyone_ will know. It's a lot Derek." I nod as she continues talking, slipping back into her familiar mode of rambling. "Addison hates me now. I'm a whore."

"No," I interrupt, reaching out and grabbing hold of her hands. "You're not a whore Meredith." She nods slightly, but doesn't meet my eyes and I suddenly realize that she doesn't quite believe me. That I might have done far more damage to her in my anger and jealousy then I ever intended to. "Meredith…Mer, look at me." She doesn't at first, but I lift her chin and she meets my eyes reluctantly. "You are not a whore."

"Oh, so now that I've slept with you again that goes away?" She sounds more then a little bitter, and she crosses her arms protectively over her chest.

"No…it was never true. I…I…" I stammer, shaking my head. "I said it to hurt you," I admit at last, feeling my cheeks burn with shame. God…I've been an asshole to her.

"To hurt me?" Meredith echoes weakly.

"I was so jealous Mer," I say helplessly, shrugging my shoulders. "It's not an excuse, it doesn't fix it at all, I know that. But Mer…I couldn't even think straight. Just knowing that someone else could have you when I couldn't, that you were with someone else, more then one someone else…I was so jealous," I repeat again, recalling the hot bubbling pain that fills me every time I realize that Meredith is with someone other then me. "But it doesn't make you a whore Mer. It just makes me a jealous ass." She nods and I _think _I see a faint flicker of a smile cross her face.

"But you don't get jealous," she says quietly. "You told me that."

"I didn't get jealous," I agree. "Before I met you. With you though…" I trail off, shrugging my shoulders.

Meredith looks up, and this time she's definitely smiling at me. "With me you're an ass," she says, finishing my sentence for me.

"I guess so," I laugh, just glad that she's smiling. "But Meredith," I continue, my voice turning serious again. "You believe me? That you're not a whore?"

She nods, her voice quiet. "Yes…" She leans against me again, and we fall silent, simply standing there in the dark hallway. "Derek?" she begins again after a moment.

"Mer?"

"What are we doing? I mean, about you and I? We can't just travel back in time to before everything..."

"We can do whatever you want," I interrupt, cutting her short.

"Whatever I want?" She looks up and frowns at me.

"Yes. We can do this as slowly as you want. If you just want to be friends first that's fine. If you think we need to talk more, or I don't know…whatever you need." I smile at her, running my hands through her loose hair. There isn't a simple way to explain how much I've missed her, or just how much I would do to keep her now…but it's a lot. "I love you Meredith," I say, pressing my lips against her forehead. "So I'm here and I'm staying, how we do everything though…it's up to you."

She nods her head, seeming to consider this. When she speaks, her voice sounds soft and a little unsure. "Tell me that again."

"Tell you what again?"

She shrugs her shoulders, looking up into my eyes. "That you love me." I nod my head, grinning at her, my fingers playing in her hair.

"I do. God Mer…I love you. I think you're perfect. Even if I could, I wouldn't change a single thing about you. You're it for me Mer."

"You love me," she echoes, sounding almost amazed at the idea. I nod again, tilting my head down towards her. "I love you too," she adds in a whisper, her lips finding mine and her hands coming between us to pull the zipper of my jacket down. She shrugs it off my shoulders, sighing as my hands slip under the sheer fabric of her shirt and over the warmth of her body. "Do you still remember where my room is?" she asks, tilting her head back to smirk at me.

"Of course. I could never forget." I should've remembered Meredith was never one to favor taking things slow. She just reaches out, taking my hand in hers, leading us down the silent hall and into her room. This time, she doesn't laugh as I pull off her shirt and we fall backwards onto her bed. We just stare at each other wide-eyed, not wanting to look away for a second. It feels odd to be back here with her after all this time. But as Meredith wraps her arm around my neck, pulling me down to her and kissing me again, I realize that it feels completely right.

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_A/N 2 - Okay, like I said, it was a bit of a filler chapter. Nothing really dramatic happened. However, I really wanted Mer and Derek to actually talk about things, and just sort of...have something a little less intense after the last two chapters. So hopefully, you guys enjoyed it. I really enjoyed writing it, because it had a bit of fluffy happy Mer/Der in it, after a good eight chapters of angst. Also, I wanted to include the whole Derek calling Meredith a whore thing into my story, because I really do think he hurt her. She cares a lot about what Derek thinks about her, so having him call her a whore probably didn't do anything to convince her otherwise. Anyways...there's about three chapters left, maybe four depending on how long scenes get when I write them out. Coming up, there will be a final conflict and resolution with Addison, some drama at work with everyone knowing what happened at the bar, some more Mer/Der...hopefully I'll have another update before the weekend is over. Thanks so much for all the reviews, they really mean a lot, so please if you've read this far, leave a comment! I'd love to hear what you think. (Also...wow. Less then a week until Season 3. I am seriously excited!) _


	10. Chapter 10: Live and Learn

_A/N 1 - Wow...I'm horribly late in updating this. My apologies! Things have been very busy this week, and well...there was episode one of season three. With a real live McDreamy declaration of love. Talk about a great way to kick off a new season. So, I have been wasting way too much time watching and rewatching that, instead of working on updating my story. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Anyway, here's a longish update. My attempt to make up for the delay! Not sure what I think about this section, it feels kinda filler-y, to set things up for the ending. But, it's got a cute Mer/Der scene in it, so hopefully it's not too bad. Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review, and been patient enough to wait for more. Thanks so much! That's about it...read away, and review!_

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_Meredith_

News travels fast at Seattle Grace. Actually that feels like an understatement. It travels with lightening speed. Okay…Derek and I driving to work together probably didn't do anything to slow it down, but what was I supposed to do? Make him walk to the hospital? That could've made him late for work, which would have been horrible if anyone came in needing emergency brain surgery. (No one did. It was a slow morning. But still…) I didn't have a choice. My…boyfriend? I guess Derek's my boyfriend now. I don't know what else to call him. I mean, he's definitely more then just some guy I'm sleeping with. But he's technically still married, and I still need to officially end things with Finn. Finn thinks he's my boyfriend too. I guess I have two boyfriends then? Well, for now. It's a temporary problem. Anyway, my boyfriend (the gorgeous neurosurgeon, not the vet) needed a ride to work. It's not my fault if people saw us in the car together, or walking into the hospital together, or taking the elevator together.

Okay…maybe the elevator part was unnecessary. But honestly, we didn't even kiss. We just stood there talking. And trying to ignore the fact that _everyone_ was whispering about us and staring at us. It's actually kind of unnerving. I think the whole hospital knows the jist of what happened at Joe's last night, and it's only noon.

"Dr. Grey." I spin around, nearly dropping the folder in my hands, to locate the voice. "Dr. Grey?"

"Yes?" I answer, trying to manage a smile. This is just fantastic. I'm face to face with a group of giggling, smirking nurses. "What is it?" I ask, as one of the nurses smirks at her coworkers, before breaking away and walking towards me.

"The lab results for Mr. Erickson are back," she says, brandishing a folder at me.

"Oh…" I glance down, studying the papers. "Umm, he's not my patient. This is Dr. Shepherd's patient." I frown at the nurse, but she just shrugs. She's not new, I've seen her around her before. She should know how to find the doctor's name on a file by now.

She shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, well…I'm sure you can give it to him."

"No…" I say slowly, scanning the first page. "Umm…Dr. Yang is the intern on the case. You'll need to page her."

I start to pass the folder back to her, but she just raises an eyebrow. "Avoiding Dr. Shepherd?"

"What? No…I'm…"

"Quite the change from last night," continues the nurse. "I suppose you're bored with him now? No challenge once you've already destroyed the marriage, eh?" I just blink at her. I mean, seriously? _Seriously? _I can't even think of a way to answer that that doesn't involve me calling her things that are likely to get me kicked out of the program, or physical violence, or a combination of both.

"I'm not his intern today," I say stiffly, practically shoving the folder into her hands. She just shrugs and smiles a sickeningly sweet, smug smile. Without waiting another second, I turn on my heel and march off down the hall. I do my best to ignore the chorus of laughter that drifts from the group of nurses, but I practically barrel into Cristina when I round the corner.

"Umm…ow," she says, grabbing me by the shoulders to steady herself. "What's wrong with you?" she adds after taking a look at my face.

"Nothing," I hiss, still walking ridiculously fast down the hall.

"Uh huh…what'd you do?"

"Nothing," I repeat, stopping to glare at her. "Nothing except break up a marriage and….and…." I shake my head and go back to storming down the hallway. I officially hate nurses now.

"Whoa…Mer, what happened to freakish McHappy from this morning?"

"Huh?" I stop walking to frown at Cristina. "What are you talking about?"

"You were beaming," she says in a low voice, as if her point is obvious. It's not. Seriously, I have no idea what she's getting at here, and she's my person. I usually know just what she's talking about.

"I was not beaming," I say, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. Honestly, right now I'm not even sure I remember what a smile feels like.

"Have you looked in a mirror at all today Mer? You were grinning like an idiot all of rounds." I was not. She's imagining things. I might have been smiling _a little _when we were rounding on Derek's nerve case, but that's only because he kept staring at me. And not just staring at me, but McDreamy staring at me, and seriously, how can you not smile at that?

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say stiffly, making a face at Cristina. She just smirks. She actually _smirks _at me. She is lucky I got all my freaking out done last night. And that I'm now a safe distances from the nurses. "You're imaging things."

"Uh huh," she says, rolling her eyes. "Relax Mer. Screaming orgasms tend to make people all smiley afterwards." She raises her hand, gesturing at my face. "Looks like you could use another one now though." I glance over my shoulder at the nurses' station just a few feet away. I cannot believe she actually said that outloud.

"Cristina…" I glare at her, shushing her and hurrying us further down the hall. "I…we…" I stammer, finally settling on repeating that I have no idea what she is talking about. Too bad I already told her everything this morning. Probably means she's not going to believe me now. Yep…here comes the eye roll. Cristina doesn't believe me.

"Nice try. Bambi says you two actually woke him up." I just cringe and shush her again. What is she trying to do? I mean, seriously! People are gossiping about Derek and I enough already, the last thing I need is for some nurse to hear me describing what the two of us did last night. "Relax Mer," continues Cristina as we flop down onto an empty gurney. "I just came to tell you that you've officially defeated the She-Shepherd."

"Huh?"

"Addison."

"I know who the She-Shepherd is Cristina. What do you mean I've defeated her?"

"Evil Spawn's off the vagina squad. He said she isn't here, and apparently she won't be here tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or…"

"Seriously?" I interrupt incredulously. I've been steering clear of Maternity all morning, trying to avoid another encounter with Addison.

"Yep. Alex says you're his new best friend."

"Wait…she's leaving Seattle? As in, gone forever? Because of me?" I shake my head, feeling a sudden sharp pang of guilt pierce through my wall of anger. I don't know what I was expecting exactly…for nothing at all to happen? That's just stupid. Obviously things are changing. The end of a marriage is going to change things. But still… I sigh and look back at Cristina.

"I don't know," she continues, shrugging. "He didn't say." She pauses and looks down the hall, her face instantly transforming into something halfway between a grin and a smirk. "Ask lover boy. He'd probably know."

"Lover boy?" I echo, raising an eyebrow at Cristina. She just pats my shoulder and hops down from the gurney.

"Afternoon Dr. Shepherd," she calls, still smirking as I turn around to find Derek walking towards us.

"Dr. Yang," he replies, taking up the abandoned spot beside me on the gurney. "Dr. Grey," he continues, turning to look at me as Cristina walks away. I think she says something about where she's going, but seriously, that's just flying through one ear and out the other. Because, well…Derek's grinning at me. Grinning at me with eyes that are even more painfully blue then normal, and hair that is adorably messed up from spending the morning under a scrub cap. Adorably messed up? Crap. What is wrong with me? I'm supposed to be seething and angry here, but Cristina's right. I'm grinning like an idiot again, not to mention thinking thoughts about how cute Derek's hair looks today. Which honestly, might be even worse then the obsessive smiling, and is definitely very un-surgeon-like of me.

I need help. Seriously.

"Dr. Shepherd," I manage to say through my ridiculous smile. He just grins a little more.

"Have lunch with me?" he asks.

"Lunch?" I stammer. "With…with you?"

"Lunch. With me." Derek nods, pulling his legs up onto the gurney and leaning back against the wall.

"I can't." I lean forward, turning to scan the thankfully empty hall. Derek's face falls instantly, and I move to explain. (Pathetic, I know. But I really can't help it when he pouts like that.) "People are already talking. More then talking, Derek. I can't take two steps without stumbling into a conversation about me."

"You're popular," he interrupts, smirking at me as if this is a good thing.

"Derek," I insist, shaking my head. "Us going to eat together would just…I don't know. It'd just be adding fuel to the fire!"

"You're paranoid," he says, smiling at me. "No fuel. No fire. It'd just be lunch. Besides, since everyone already knows…" His voice trails off, ending with a shrug, and a smirk that makes it clear he thinks he's got a bullet-proof argument. Really…he can be such an ass.

"Derek, no. I'm not sitting in the cafeteria so that people can stare at us. Besides, you're technically married. It's inappropriate."

"So, let me get this straight. I can't eat lunch with you because it's inappropriate, but last night I could…"

"Derek Shepherd, don't you dare finish that sentence," I interrupt, clamping my hand down over his mouth as a lone nurse makes her way down the hall, eyeing us curiously. My hand stays clamped over Derek's mouth until she disappears, and I do my best to ignore the way he's smirking at me over my hand. When I finally free his lips, he just raises an eyebrow.

"What?" he asks innocently.

"Oh don't 'What?' me. You know exactly what you were going to say, and it would have been completely inappropriate for work."

"Dr. Grey," he begins loftily, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back against the wall. "Have you ever considered the possibility that I'm completely innocent, and you just have a dirty mind?" I _was _doing an excellent job of glaring at him, but at this I snort, laughing and shaking my head. "It's possible," he continues, leaning towards me and dropping his voice down to a whisper as he points out just what about last night proves that I'm the one with the dirty mind. I was right. What he was planning on saying is completely inappropriate.

"Derek," I interrupt, still laughing slightly as I turn to look at him. Okay yeah…probably a bad idea when Derek's already leaning so close to me, because this right here is pretty much a prime kissing position. Add that to the fact that Derek's just been whispering some very inappropriate things in my ear? The fact that I'm not straddling him right here on the gurney is seriously admirable. (And people say I have no self control.)

"Yes?" he says softly, tilting his head to the side, his gaze drifting down to my lips. I think I was planning on saying something, but honestly I can't remember right now. Derek keeps leaning forward slowly until his mouth isn't even an inch from mine, and I shiver. I can't help shivering when he's this close to me. Derek just tends to make everything all wide-eyed and tingly. However, this is a very public hallway. Kissing him here would be a very bad idea. Maybe if I just repeat that to myself over and over again, I'll be fine. Public hallway…bad idea…public hallway…

"Umm…" I manage to stammer, pulling away slightly. "You said…you…umm…well, last night." Derek just frowns at me. I don't think he's following my rambling very well. That's okay though…I'm not following it too well either. I do have a point though. I swear.

"Last night?" he echoes, his eyebrows knitting together .

"You said it was up to me. Last night, you said how slow or how fast…that I could choose," I blurt out, watching Derek's face carefully. His expression doesn't change at all, he just keeps on frowning a little. It's kind of disconcerting. "And that, whatever I chose you'd be okay with," I add softly.

Derek's voice is just a low murmur of agreement. "Mmhmm…"

"So, I'm not saying that we can't eat lunch together or that I'm never going into the cafeteria when you're there, but it's too much right now. I mean, yesterday we were hardly speaking to each other, and now today… Well, today we're all…you know…" My voice trails off and I shrug. Derek just tilts his head to the side, looking at me like I'm a particularly puzzling CT scan. Real helpful there McDreamy. Real helpful. "Derek," I insist, after he's stared at me for a good minute.

"Hmm?" He straightens up and grins. "Today we're all what?"

"We're all…you know," I repeat pointedly.

"I don't know."

"All coupley," I finally hiss in a low voice, causing Derek to break out into an even wider grin.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yes. No…" I shift uncomfortably, pulling on a strand of my hair. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Yeah…maybe," I repeat, before looking down at the floor and falling silent. Derek nods his head, leaning back against the wall.

"So basically, you took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it?" He's joking now? When I'm trying really hard to be serious? Ass. My head snaps back up to glare at him, but Derek's grinning like an idiot and somehow I start smiling too.

"I did not take advantage," I mutter, and somehow (that's entirely not my fault) my head finds its way down to rest on his shoulder.

"You did," he counters quietly, his voice getting lost in my hair. I'm pretty sure he's smiling because his voice is curving warmly, and I'm _this close _to giving in and deciding that being all coupley all the time is freaking fabulous. But then…the thought comes back, and I remember what I wanted to ask him in the first place.

"Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Is Addison leaving Seattle because of me?" We both sit up, pulling apart slightly as soon as I say her name.

"Leaving Seattle?" Derek frowns, his hand reaching up to run through his hair. "Not that I know of."

"Oh…" I shift uncomfortably, swinging my legs back and forth, the tips of my shoes just skimming over the floor. Derek doesn't say anything else, and I'm not sure what to say myself. Addison has to be gone. Alex can be a jerk, but he's one guy who doesn't just make things up.

"Mer?" says Derek cautiously, resting his hand on my arm. I sigh and turn to look at him.

"It's just…it's just that Alex was like her freaking personal assistant, and he says she's gone. And if she is, then I'm a horrible person. I mean, not that working with her was going to be easy, but for her to run the other way immediately because of me? Crap. Derek, I'm a horrible person. I practically kicked her out of Seattle!"

Derek just blinks at me for a moment. "Slow down," he says, his hand still holding onto my arm. "You didn't kick anyone out of Seattle."

"I didn't?"

"No. I haven't talked to her, but I heard from Richard that she's taking a week off. She called him this morning."

"Oh…"

"After that, I don't know. But it's hardly kicking her out of Seattle Meredith." I nod my head numbly, going back to swinging my legs and staring at the floor. Alright, apparently I didn't kick Addison out of the city, but still…it kinda feels like all the guilt from prom and breaking up a marriage just finally caught up with me.

"So," continues Derek, his voice surprisingly upbeat. "What about lunch?" Seriously? After the sudden wall of guilt that just smacked me in the face?

"Derek…no, I have to…umm…I'm not hungry." He raises an eyebrow at me. Well that's just what he gets for ignoring the whole part where I told him it was too soon for us to have lunch together. I swear that was only five minutes ago. "I…have to do a thing."

"Meredith. What is it?"

I scoot off the gurney, shaking my head. "Last night was good," I say, and a smirk instantly crosses Derek's face. Seriously, he has such a dirty mind. Not that I mind, but no…I'm focusing on being serious here. I take a deep breath, and before I fully realize it, I'm doing the whole serious thing really, really well. (Judging by Derek's face, maybe a little too well.) "It's just that, Finn still thinks he's my boyfriend. He invited me to his beach house. That was the last thing he talked to me about. And you haven't even signed the divorce papers yet. Addison may or may not be fleeing the city. But either way, she's certainly not here right now. And pretty much all of this is because of me, Derek. I'm starting to feel like a freaking tidal wave here. Or something else seriously destructive. So no, we can't have lunch. People are talking about me. And I already broke George, and you already broke me, and I'm not going to break Finn too."

Derek mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like a description of just what he thinks should happen to Finn. (For the record, Derek's not exactly the nicest man when he's feeling jealous.) I just stare at him as he falls silent, and a moment later he nods. "No lunch," he says.

I nod my head in agreement. "No lunch."

"We're not breaking anyone this time."

"Exactly. We're being responsible." Derek sighs, and gets off the gurney. "What?" I add, taking in his expression. It's a little gloomy, almost…perturbed even.

Derek smiles slightly, looking suddenly guilty. "It wouldn't hurt Finn to get broken a little," he mumbles, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It wouldn't hurt him? The definition of breaking someone _implies_ pain. And he calls himself a brain surgeon? Seriously?

"Derek…" I say, edging my voice with just a hint of anger.

"I know…definitely no lunch now."

"You think? Seriously Derek, why do you hate him so much? He's just a nice guy who tried to take care of our dog, and ended up getting caught in the middle of a huge mess."

"I know," says Derek reluctantly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Look, I already wrecked your marriage. I'm just trying not to wreck anything else okay?" My voice rises, growing a little too high and thin, but I can't help it. I'm once again back to feeling completely overwhelmed. Derek moves to sit back down beside me on the gurney, but my pager goes off, and I yank it from my scrubs.

"Meredith…you didn't break…" But I shake my head, fastening the pager back in place.

"No…I have to get this, okay?" Without waiting for Derek to reply, I push past him and hurry away down the hall.

_Derek_

"Dr. Bailey," I say as I walk into the elevator. She just raises an eyebrow but doesn't reply. "Interesting case?" I continue, tilting my towards the file she's examining as the doors close.

"Hmmm…" she snorts, snapping the folder short.

"Not interesting?"

"No…no…interesting. Very interesting. It needs a consult though, the woman's seven months pregnant. Don't suppose you can help me with that?"

"Umm…well…no…" I begin, but Bailey cuts me off.

"No, but the other Dr. Shepherd could." She folds her arms over her chest, with a look on her face that makes me pretty much certain that she knows Addison's taken the week off, and why. Of course she'd know. Somehow Bailey always knows everything around here.

"Yes. That is her specialty," I say quietly, leaning back against the wall. "Although, there are several other doctors in the hospital, several excellent doctors, who could give you the consult." I smile hopefully, but Bailey just shakes her head. "She'll be back," I add, after we've stood there for what feels like a good minute in silence. "You know…she's just taking a week off. It's…it's…complicated." Bailey frowns, and for a second, she looks as if she's about to yell at me. Instead, she just nods her head.

"So, you finally made a choice."

"I did."

"About damn time too."

I nod my head. "I know."

Bailey turns to look at me, her finger pointing at my chest. "Don't you hurt my intern now," she says. I blink in surprise at the sudden statement. Bailey always has had a way of catching me off guard.

"Of course not," I say defensively, as soon as I find my voice. "I wouldn't. I won't." Bailey makes a low, almost scornful noise, once again folding her arms over her chest. "I won't," I insist. "Don't you believe me?"

"Oh I know you think you're charming, and just about everything Meredith could ever want. But I also know your track record, so no, I won't believe it until I see it."

"I'm not what…" I begin to defend myself, but stop abruptly, caught by the memory of Meredith storming down the hall this morning. "It's over this time," I say simply, and for the first time since I got on the elevator, I see Bailey smile.

"Good," she says as the doors slide slowly apart to reveal Meredith standing there, waiting for the elevator. Bailey shoots me a look before exiting the elevator as Meredith walks on.

"Hey," she says quietly, smiling up at me.

"Hey." She looks infinitely happier then she did in the hallway this morning.

Meredith leans against the wall, resting a pile of charts on her hip. We just stare at each other for a second before she ducks her head slightly. "Sorry about earlier," she mumbles.

"Earlier?"

"Yeah, earlier. With the no lunch thing, and the yelling about Finn thing."

"Oh…you don't need to apologize."

"Yeah…well," she shrugs her shoulders. "I was a little bit crazy."

"Nah," I begin, but Meredith shakes her head.

"I was."

"But I like you a little bit crazy." Meredith just grins and bites her lip. "And I'm sorry too," I continue. "You should talk to Finn. He does deserve it." She nods slowly, fidgeting with the buttons on her lab coat. "And what sort of person wants to eat lunch anyway?"

"I like to eat lunch," says Meredith, finally meeting my eyes again.

"Yes, but…you're a little bit crazy."

She smirks, nodding her head. "I am."

"You are." I step closer to her, shifting our bodies so that she's pressed between me and the wall. "So, what about dinner? I think it's a better meal anyway."

"Dinner? You're asking me to dinner?"

"I am." She tilts her head to the side, still smiling at me, but not answering. "Tomorrow night," I continue, leaning closer to her. "You, me, fancy menus, all that stuff."

"You mean…like at a restaurant? On a date?" Meredith raises an eyebrow almost skeptically.

"Yes, a date."

"We never used to go on dates." I frown…she's right. We never really did. It was usually just us at her house, occasionally at my trailer, eating whatever we could find in the fridge, followed by lots of sex. I can hardly believe that she's never once dressed up just to go somewhere with me.

"We should," I say quietly, hoping she won't disagree. I want this time to be different. I want her to really see how important she is to me this time. And honestly, I'm pretty sure I have a lot to make up for too.

"We should," echoes Meredith, her voice almost a whisper. I think I'm grinning now, and our mouths inch closer and closer together. Just as our lips touch, the doors slide open with an obtrusive ding. We pull apart, glancing sheepishly at the open doors.

"Okay," I say, walking back out into the main hospital. Meredith just follows beside me, still smiling. There's something wonderful about her smile. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's perfect.

"Okay then," she agrees, before we have to separate, and walk down opposite hallways to our patients. "Okay."

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_A/N 2 - So yeah, Meredith was a bit overwhelmed this chapter. She started off good, but then the nurses were accusing her of things, and talking about her, so...she got a little bit crazy. I like Meredith a little bit crazy, and I like the idea that Derek doesn't get freaked out by Meredith getting a little bit crazy. I wanted a second Derek/Bailey scene, since she knew that they had been together while Derek was still married. And she's glad that Derek made a choice, but I think she wants to make sure Mer doesn't get hurt. Because Mer's her intern, and she's Bailey, and even if she doesn't say it, she's protective like that. Finally, yeah...more Mer/Der in an elevator. They're going to have an actual date...because Mer deserves an actual date and not just an exam room or an on-call room, or something else convenient. So yep, that's about it. Sorry again for the long delay. (Hopefully this was worth the wait, and people haven't given up on the story.) Just two more chapters to go!_


	11. Chapter 11: The World Spins Madly On

_A/N 1 - Whew...long time no update. Real life has caught up with me, and has been keeping me seriously busy. But I had all of today free, and so I sat and just wrote and wrote. Hee...it was fun. Hopefully, you guys will like this chapter! Thanks so much to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this story. Your kind comments keep me motivated to finish it! So please, read away and review._

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_Meredith_

"So what exactly are we doing in your closet?" calls Cristina, peering around a tangled clump of jeans and sweaters. She frowns at me, but I just roll my eyes and keep digging deeper through all the stuff. "Seriously Meredith," she insists, sinking down to sit on a pile of old sweatshirts.

"I already told you," I say, pulling a red dress off a hanger and holding it up to me. "What do you think?"

Cristina raises an eyebrow. "Umm…no."

"No?"

"No. Unless you want McDreamy to think you really are a whore." I frown at Cristina and hold the dress out at arms length. Okay…maybe it is a little bit trashy. The fact that I haven't worn it since college might have something to do with that. But still, I'm running out of possibilities here.

"That bad?" I ask, sighing and sinking down beside her on the floor.

"No. That streetwalker."

I ball up the dress and toss it into the increasingly wrecked back half of my closet. "Cristina…" I moan, hitting my head against the wall. "I brought you here to help me."

"Yeah, I still don't know why." Well, because I don't go on dates. At least, I didn't. You don't really need to wear anything special when you're planning to kick the guy out of your house the next morning.

"Because I don't date. I don't know what to wear."

Cristina sighs, sounding very exasperated. (Bad, bad person.) I just glare at her. "Well what did you wear when you dated Derek before?" she finally asks.

"Anything. I just wore whatever I'd been wearing all day. Besides, we were usually naked."

"So just go naked," she says immediately. My eyebrows shoot straight up, and before I can get out an exasperated "Cristina!" she adds, "I'm sure he won't mind."

"That's not the point," I say, starting to feel a little bit panicked. I am going to have no choice but to wear the Trashy McHooker dress from junior year at Dartmouth, and Derek is going to realize I don't dress up anywhere near as nicely as his wife does. I mean, ex-wife. Crap. I really need to get the hang of that. Addison equals ex. "It's not fair," I continue, shaking my head. "I don't know how she does it. All the stylishness, and the perfect hair, and shoes that freaking match her freaking purse. It's just not fair Cristina. It's seriously not fair."

"Huh?" she asks, slipping off her clogs and trying on a pair of my boots. "Who?"

"Addison. I mean, whatever she's wearing right now is probably ten times nicer then every single thing in my closet." I pull a black skirt off the floor, dangling it in front of us for a second. It's very…librarian. Actually, I think I wore it for a med school interview. Five years ago. "I need new clothes," I moan, tossing the skirt back onto the heap. I'm not exaggerating here. I do need new clothes. I can't even remember the last time I went shopping. Addison probably manages to go shopping between surgeries.

"Mer." I shake my head and kick at the pile of old ugly clothes with the tip of my toe. "Mer," repeats Cristina. "He left Addison for you. He's not going to go running back to her because he suddenly discovers that you wear J. Crew and Addison wears Prada. Derek just doesn't care."

"But he asked me out to dinner. He wants it to be a fancy thing."

"To do something nice for you," she says very slowly, taking her time with each word, as if she's afraid I've somehow lost my grip on the English language. Ugh, she is useless. Bad Cristina, bad. "If you showed up in sweats and old flip-flops, he'd still look at you all gooey-eyed. It's pathetic."

"Come on," I plead, leaning back against the wall. "I'm freaking out here." Cristina just stares at me for a second before climbing to her feet. Without a word, she begins to barrel through the hangers, knocking several winter coats to the floor. "Cristina?" I ask, following suit and standing up as well. She ignores me, pulling out a light purple dress and holding it up to me. "I should wear that?" I ask skeptically. It's an old bridesmaid dress. Very frilly.

Cristina is emphatic. "No." Okay…I guess not then.

Twenty minutes and one completely emptied closet later, Cristina is pushing a dress into my arms and shoving me back out into the room. I stand in front of the mirror, frowning at the dress. It's a deep indigo, almost the color of Derek's eyes. (That's got to be a good sign.) It's made of something soft and sleek, maybe satin? I've never been good with fabrics. "Yeah?" I ask, looking at Cristina. She's already flopped down on my bed, one of my old, dog-eared medical journals in her lap.

"Obviously," she says without glancing up. "I picked it out, didn't it?"

"Mmhmm…" I mumble, still staring at myself. "You don't think it's too…I dunno…too something?"

"No Mer. It's hot."

"Hot?" I echo. Cristina sighs, and finally looks up.

"Yes Meredith. You'll look hot. Shepherd will be all hot for you in it. It's a hot dress, deal with it."

"Okay…" I agree reluctantly. It _is_ a nice dress. I don't remember why I bought it, but I know I've never worn it before. I sigh and shake my head, setting the dress down and pacing across my room. The floor's like a minefield, and I nearly trip over two pairs of jeans before settling down beside Cristina on the bed.

She sighs again, raising an eyebrow at me. "What's wrong now?" she asks.

"Nothing…it's just…no, it's nothing." Somehow, Cristina manages to raise her eyebrow even higher. It's a real skill she's got there. "I mean, we survived his wife right? We can survive dinner." Cristina groans and nods her head.

"Meredith, you have had countless meals with Derek. The two of you will be cute enough to make me ill. You'll drink too much wine, and then have sex on the hood of his car." She smirks at me, practically laughing out loud as she flips through an article on nerve repair. "No different then normal," she adds. Yeah…I never should have told her about the car thing. Actually, Derek and I need to do the car thing again. Soon, like tomorrow night. (Maybe dinner won't be so bad…) "Seriously Meredith," continues Cristina, her voice cutting through my thoughts. "Why are you acting like Bambi over this?" Oh, poor George. And, I am not acting like George. George and I? Very different people. But before I can answer and protest the comparison, the sound of the doorbell and muffled voices downstairs fills the air.

"Meredith!" calls a voice from the foot of the stairs.

"George?" I shout back, pushing myself to my feet. I walk over to the door, opening it and leaning out into the hallway. "What is it?" I call.

"Someone's here to see you."

"Who? Is it Derek?" I call back to him. I grin, shaking my head. Now that Cristina's reminded me of the car thing... "Just tell him to get his ass in my bedroom already." I turn back around, wanting to hide the dress somewhere in the ruins of my closet so Derek won't see it. But before I take a step, George makes an uncomfortable noise that pretty much freezes me in place.

"Umm…it's Finn, Meredith." Judging by the sheer quantity of _awkward _in his voice, I'm guessing that Finn is standing right next to him. Crap.

"Oh…" I say quietly, as Cristina hops off the bed. She's grinning like she's just been told she can scrub in on a hemispherectomy. Glad to know my love life is so amusing.

"What about that Mer?" she asks, walking over to me. "Should he get his ass in your bedroom too?"

"Umm…" I stammer. "Umm George," I continue, remembering that he's probably still standing at the foot of the stairs with Finn. "Tell him I'll be right down," I call before turning to look at Cristina. "What do I do?" I hiss.

"I'm guessing this is the part where you break up with the vet."

"I know that," I say, shaking my head. "But what should I say? He's so nice…and he was going to take me to his beach house, and…"

Cristina just snorts, cutting me off with a very pronounced smirk. "Seeing as he just heard you tell George to send McDreamy up to your little love nest, I'm guessing you've got your work cut out for you." I groan and run a hand through my hair. Somehow, I think telling Finn that I'm going to go shower, and that he should be gone by the time I get back, just isn't going to cut it this time.

"Fine," I mutter, zipping up my sweater and heading towards the stairs. Sure enough, there's Finn - hands shoved into his pockets, frown fixed clearly on his face.

"Finn!" exclaims Cristina, barely containing her delight as she follows me down the staircase. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," he agrees, his eyes remaining trained on me. He's still frowning, and his voice is pretty clipped. I think this is the closest thing to angry I've ever seen Finn achieve.

"Finn…hi," I began, smiling hesitantly at him. "Umm…how are you?"

"Fine." He's practically pouting, and I'm almost completely sure that Cristina is rolling her eyes right now.

"Umm Finn…" I try again, shooting a pointed look at George. Cristina is way too amused to give up her perch on the stairs, but maybe…maybe George will take the hint and drag her and himself far far away for this.

"So, coffee," declares George, snatching Cristina's hand and pulling her to her feet. She looks as if she's about to slap him, but follows reluctantly into the kitchen. Oh George, I love you. Seriously. The guy's my hero tonight. They disappear from sight, and over the low murmur of their voices and the opening and closing of cabinets, I turn back to Finn.

"We…we need to talk," I say, looking up at him.

"Yeah. I guess we do."

"You're a really nice guy Finn." I begin quietly. I try to smile, but he's still staring at me with his disappointed frown. "A really nice guy," I repeat, shaking my head. I have seriously no idea how to do this. Maybe…good qualities? Yeah…people like to hear about their good qualities. That should help soften the blow. "And you're kind," I continue. "Kind and sweet, and really good with animals. And you're funny, and well…you're just a great guy."

"Meredith," interrupts Finn.

"Yeah?"

"It's okay. I know what you're trying to do."

"You do?" I echo, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes Meredith. You couldn't stop staring at him in the bar last night, you expect it to be him when the doorbell rings. I get it Meredith. I came over to see if you'd made up your mind about taking a weekend off with me, and it's pretty clear what you've decided. So I'm going to make it easy on you and just leave." I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, Finn's already turned around and walked out the door.

"Ouch," says Cristina, emerging from the kitchen.

"Were you two listening?" I ask. George manages to look sheepish and mumble an apology, but Cristina just resumes her commentary.

"I didn't know McBoring had it in him." I sigh and shake my head at them, grabbing a sweatshirt from one of the hooks by the door and pulling it on as I walk outside.

"Finn," I call, hurrying down the steps and towards his car. It's already dark outside, but I can make out the glint of his keys as he shoves one into the lock on the car door. "Finn, please," I insist, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt up as protection against the surprisingly cold wind. I squint up at the inky sky for a second. We've probably got about three minutes until the rain starts and we're both drenched to the bone.

"What Meredith?" he asks, sighing and straightening up to look at me. I don't really know what… I just…I wanted a better ending then this.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm really sorry. I wanted us to be happy and…but…" I shrug again, biting my lip.

"But you'd rather be with your married lover," he finishes for me, shaking his head.

"No," I blurt out, causing Finn's frown to deepen. "He's…umm…he's not married anymore," I continue, my voice growing softer. "He's getting a divorce."

Finn laughs almost bitterly, his hand coming down hard against the roof of the car. "And with that, my edge over the brain surgeon is lost."

"It's not like that," I stammer, shaking my head. "It's just that, well…he's Derek." I shrug, feeling a little bit helpless. Because he _is _Derek. Cheesy as it is, he's my McDreamy. "I love him. We…he and I, we have to give this thing a shot. If we don't, I'm always going to be wondering about what could have been. And…that's hardly healthy." I smile hesitantly at Finn. He doesn't quite return my smile, but he nods his head.

"Okay," he says quietly, pulling his jacket a little bit closer against the wind. I was right, raindrops are already starting to fall. "I get that Meredith. I'm just sorry that we didn't find each other at a different time, in different circumstances. I think…I could have really loved you." I close my eyes and look away. I'm not sure if it's just the rain or if I'm actually crying, but my cheeks suddenly feel far too wet. Finn leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead. "You should go back inside," he says quietly. "Before you get sick."

I nod my head and take a half step backwards, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. My feet are already soaking. "Goodbye Finn," I manage to say as he opens the door to his car.

"Goodbye Meredith," he agrees. I stand there in the rain, as Finn gets into his car and drives away. The taillights eventually vanish from sight, leaving me with nothing but the rain. For better or worse, it's now just Derek and I. Just us, trying to figure out a way to make this thing work. And seriously…I hope we can.

_Derek_

I hesitate outside the door. I really don't want to knock on it. I'd much rather turn back around and leave the hotel, maybe go to Meredith's, or just relax with a beer at the trailer. Standing here, in the pristine hallway of what has to be the fanciest hotel in all of Seattle, and trying to come up with something civil to say to my soon-to-be-ex wife, is not exactly my idea of a great evening. Still, Meredith deserves actual signed papers, and Addison and I probably owe each other an attempt at a conversation slightly more civilized then last night's shouting match. So, I raise my fist and knock heavily on the door. After a few seconds, it swings open to reveal a scowling Addison. She looks me up and down, shaking her head slightly.

"What do you want?" Her voice is acidic, and I'm half expecting the door to slam shut in my face.

"Brought the papers," I say simply, raising a manila envelope. "Figured you'd want to get me out of your life as soon as possible." She just frowns for a second, but then she nods and grabs the envelope, kicking the door open a bit wider for me as she does.

"And I'm sure the feeling's mutual," she calls over her shoulder as she leads the way into her hotel room. It's freaking huge. You could fit several of my trailer into the bedroom alone. Addison pulls her silk robe tighter before flopping down onto the enormous bed with the divorce papers in her lap.

"Wow Addison," I say, motioning at the room. "You really went all out."

"Yeah." She doesn't glance up, just slides the papers out of the envelope. "There's nothing like Egyptian cotton and 700 thread count sheets to help a girl forget her husband fucked a trashy…" She's halfway to saying 'whore' and I'm consequently _this close_ to bringing up Mark again, when Addison suddenly does look up. "You know…forget it," she says, shaking her head. "Lets just sign the damn thing." I swallow the urge to argue that prom was hardly "fucking" and that Meredith isn't trashy, and settle for grabbing a pen off the table and thrusting it at her.

"Ladies first," I say. Addison glares at me, before continuing to look over the divorce papers.

"These are the exact same ones," she says quietly, uncapping the pen. "These are the ones I brought from New York."

"Yeah well…they were still at the trailer," I say with a shrug. Addison laughs slightly, a very tinny false sort of laugh. "They're still good," I continue.

"No," says Addison over her laughter. "It's just…one hell of a sign. We saved our divorce papers Derek. We _saved _them. Talk about a vote of confidence." Before I can reply, she's put pen to paper and is filling the page with her long scrawl of a signature. Without a word, she passes the papers to me. I just stare at the blank line with the tiny '_x'_ next to it, marking where I should sign. I lean against the table, my pen hesitating for a second. I know it was months ago that I was staring at these same papers, struggling to sign them, but suddenly it doesn't seem like that's in the past. It feels like it was only minutes ago, or even just a second before this one, and the contrast in emotions is staggering. Because, without even having to think about it, my hand is crossing over the page, signing my name. This time it happens easily. This time it actually happens. I'm staring down at the words _'Addison Forbes Montgomery-Shepherd' _and '_Derek Shepherd,'_ and there really is no turning back now. We've just ended the last eleven years of our lives, split one strand into two.

I turn back around to look at Addison, once more holding the papers out to her. "I'm sorry," I say quietly. I'm a little surprised that I'm apologizing. It's the last thing I thought would happen when I was standing outside her hotel room. But now…now I'm in here, and I can see her wedding rings laying discarded on top of the gigantic television. And if I stop glaring at Addison long enough to really look at her, I can see that she's been crying. "I'm so sorry that…" I pause once more, shaking my head. "That…everything we said to each other the night we were married… It ended up not being true."

"Yeah…" Her voice is barely a whisper, and she sits back up, staring at me. "I'm sorry too. I thought we'd last forever Derek," she says, her voice suddenly twisting with what I know is her effort to hold back tears. "That night, I dreamed how we would grow old and wrinkly together." She shrugs, sniffing slightly and pulling the back of her hand across her eyes.

"I know…I thought we'd make it too." I cross over and sit down beside her on the bed. "We changed, Addie. Not for the worse, just…not with each other." She lets out a sound that is halfway between agreement and a sigh. "And now…" I falter for a moment, but she picks up the thought for me.

"Now there isn't enough left," she says quietly. It's my turn to nod silently because she's right. There isn't enough left between us. There isn't enough love, there isn't enough of a connection, there isn't enough of anything left for the two of us to grow old and wrinkly together. Everything we once felt is firmly buried in the past. Her head falls against my shoulder, and my hand somehow reaches out to find hers. "I'm…" she begins hesitantly, her fingers suddenly digging tightly into my palm. Her voice is a whisper when she finally speaks again. "I'm sorry I cheated."

"Yeah," I say, letting my breath out in a low hiss. When we were first married, if I'd known what was going to happen, I never would've believed it. I thought we were better then screwing best friends and falling irreversibly for a tiny little intern. But we aren't. She slept with Mark, and I gave up on trying in favor of having Meredith in an exam room. "I'm sorry I did that too," I answer quietly, and Addison nods her head, her hair rustling against my shoulder, and her hand loosening its grip slightly. We sit like that for a long time, neither of us saying anything. There isn't much to say anymore, but neither of us move because this is the ending. It's like watching the last embers in a fire spark and go out, or that heavy poignant silence that fills hospital rooms when a family gathers to say goodbye to someone for the last time, and so we both just sit there. But eventually the fire always goes out, the flatline always comes, and Addison and I finally pull apart to look at each other.

"I guess this is over," she says with a slight sniffle.

"Yeah," I agree, pressing my lips to her forehead. "I guess it is." I sigh and stand up, the bed groaning slightly as I do. Addison follows me to her feet, pausing to pick up the divorce papers and slip them into her bag.

"I'll…I'll take them to the lawyer's, when I go…"

"When you go?" I echo, turning once more to look at her. Addison nods but doesn't meet my eyes, just rocks back slightly on her heels. "You're leaving?"

"Seattle's my past now Derek. My future needs to be somewhere else."

"I get that," I say gently, and Addison smiles, seeming visibly relieved.

"Yeah…" She shakes her head, laughing nervously. "Richard is probably going to kill me when I tell him I'm going back." She's going back? New York, of course. She always did love Manhattan, far more then I ever did.

I smile and shake my head, saying, "I'll hold him off. At least long enough for you to make your escape." Addison laughs again, nodding her head. When our laughter fades away, the room is too silent. I want to say something else, but I'm not sure how you say goodbye to the woman who was your wife. "Good luck Addie," I say at last, squeezing her hand. It sounds painfully lame, and before I realize it, I've added the words, "With Mark." She freezes for a second, and I'm pretty sure I've just made a mistake and launched us straight into one last argument. But then, Addison nods her head, and I realize that I guessed right.

"Thanks," she says quietly, pulling her hand back and slipping it into the pocket of her robe. "And good luck to you too with…" She hesitates again, and I'm half expecting her to say, "That trashy whore you seem to like."

Only, she doesn't.

We stand there staring at each other in silence until Addison finally swallows hard, biting on her lip. "With Meredith," she says at last, and averts her eyes.

"Thanks," I echo, my voice as quiet as hers. And finally, I'm leaving. We give each other one last smile, and then the door closes between us. There's nothing left to save here. As I stare out at the beautiful empty hallway, my fingers dial a familiar number on my phone. I blink back my tears, and press the ringing phone to my ear. She answers, and I find myself smiling at the sound of her voice.

Addison is my past. But Meredith, she's my future.

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_A/N 2 - Okay, so Mer/Der was apart this chapter. I really wanted them both to have a chance to wrap up their other relationships. Meredith was a little bit sad, because as much as I can't stand Finn and find him to be a McBoring overgrown boy scout, he is a nice guy. A real great, nice guy. And if he and Mer had met under different circumstances (read in a world where she didn't know Derek) they probably could have loved each other and been happy. So I didn't want her to completely toss him away without even an attempt at an apology. And yeah, in this story Addison moves back to NY. I know it's different then what's happening on GA, but I like the idea that if she really wants Mark, she goes to him, and doesn't just ring him up for a transcontinental booty call! And there just seems to be way too much baggage and unhappiness for her to want to stay in Seattle (when it's not for the benefit of the show, obviously!). Because come on, she's totally a NY girl. And I wanted Addison and Derek to have a moment together where they realized their marriage was over, and they were able to be sad about that instead of simply shouting things the way they did at Joe's. So yeah, that was this chapter. Just one more to go. And, as opposed to this one, the final chapter will be pretty much nothing but Mer/Der. Thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12: In Your Perfect Eyes

_Ok...wow. First of all, insert long, looooong_ _apology on my part for this update being so late. It's been a combination of life in the real world catching up with me, a lack of wanting to end this story...as I've adored writing this, and some serious, serious writer's block as to how to actually end the damn thing! But it's finally been done. Hurray! That is, if any of you are still around to read this. If you are? Thank you so much! You deserve a medal for perservance and putting up with my story through to its end. Anyway, as promised, this chapter is entirely Meredith and Derek. And it's also entirely fluff...the icing on the cake, the happy ending. All that good stuff. Hopefully, it's not the sort of icing that gives you a stomache, but just the good sweet kind...but yeah. Enough of that. Time for the story!_

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_Meredith_

I can't remember the last time I felt this nervous walking down the stairs to meet a date. Actually, that's a lie. I can remember. It's just that it was a hell of a long time ago. It was nearly seventeen years ago - when I was twelve. I was twelve, and tripping all over my dress, as I walked down the stairs to meet my date on my way to my first school dance. Christopher Evans…that was his name. I didn't go to many of those…twelve years old…that'd be two years before I decided that school dances were pathetically lame, and discovered that pink hair dye attracted boys far more interesting then Christopher Evans. Either way, the butterflies I felt in my stomach that night have finally met their match.

I call a quick "I'll be right down," in the direction of the stairwell as I fix my dress one last time (I feel ridiculously fancy in this thing.) I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's just Derek. I'm never nervous around him. It's the opposite, he calms me down. Maybe it's the fact that I can hear George and Izzie giggling together downstairs. I don't know. That shouldn't bother me. I should be glad to finally hear Izzie laughing again. Maybe (in typical me fashion) I'm trying to find a way to mess up what's finally turned into a good thing. Seriously, a really good thing. I mean, Derek and I are both finally free. It doesn't get better then that.

Okay…enough being stupid. I'm going down. Just please, don't let me trip on my dress this time.

"Hey," I gasp. I nearly do stumble as I catch sight of Derek standing in the doorway. I'm not sure how I'm managing to speak because seriously, he looks amazing. McDreamy, even. (I knew we came up with the nickname for a reason.) His hair is perfect, yet kinda messy, falling forward towards his eyes. And he's just leaning against the doorframe, his lips half parted in a smile, and his eyes somehow managing to stare right through me. I'm pretty sure Izzie and George are still giggling and making faces at us, but I can't hear them. I don't know how he does it, but Derek consistently manages to make me forget everything but him. The rest of the world just sort of fades away, and the only thing to remain in focus? Is him. It's always him.

Seriously. _It's. Always._ _Him. _Clearly, I have problems. Or an obsession. Or something. Maybe it's just the way the whole head-over-heels in love thing works. Yeah…that sounds good. Head-over-heels in love. I'll be going with that.

"Hey," Derek echoes, pushing himself away from the wall and smiling at me. "You look…" he pauses, shaking his head, his smile growing even wider. "Wow," he mutters at last, sounding almost breathless. "You look beautiful." His gaze drifts slowly downward from my eyes, pausing to linger over my mouth. Instinctively, my tongue darts out, running along my lips, moistening them. Derek sort of sighs this soft low noise as he steps towards me…and damn, that was fast. Seriously, almost a record of sorts because his expression is already making a noticeable switch from Happy Derek to Horny Derek. At least, it's noticeable to me. Hopefully, George and Izzie haven't noticed the way we're staring at each other yet. Not that I mind the we-need-to-get-rid-of-your-dress-immediately look that he's giving me at all.

It's just that…if we forsake dinner completely, and just head straight up to my bedroom? Well, George and Izzie will make sure that, within minutes, Cristina knows. And Alex knows. And probably Callie. Hell, Joe will probably know. Basically, the whole hospital would know, and they would make sure I never live it down. Especially Cristina. She already thinks I have no self control. Besides, tonight is supposed to be our first real date as a real free couple with no strings attached. That means no sex, at least not until we go on the actual date portion. (After that? I'm not making any promises.)

"Thanks," I manage to say at last, grinning and shaking my head. "Ready to go?" I ask, soundling a little too eager. I'm pretty sure Cristina would consider my tone dangerously close to perky, very Izzie-at-Christmas. Without giving him a chance to answer, I push Derek before me out the door, turning around to make a face at Izzie and George before I slam it shut.

"What was all that?" asks Derek as I turn around again to face him.

"Oh you know…roommates…" I say, rolling my eyes and shrugging.

"Roommates?" I nod my head, but Derek just raises his eyebrows, studying my face. "You're nervous," he declares after a moment, sounding pretty much delighted by the idea. (For the record, I'm not nervous. Not at all. I'm completely the opposite of nervous…calm, even.)

"Am not," I protest, folding my arms over my chest and shaking my head. Derek just keeps staring at me expectantly, a smug little smirk playing across his face. "I'm not," I splutter again. "It's just, you were giving me the look!"

"What look?" he asks, sounding confused. "When?"

"Our look, in the house."

Derek raises his eyebrows, doing his best to look innocent. "I was looking at you because you're beautiful," he protests, grinning at me.

"No," I say, shaking my head again as he loops an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. "You were giving me the sex look, and you know it," I insist, my voice coming out in a low hiss.

"Sex?" echoes Derek immediately, his face splitting into a grin and his mouth inching steadily towards mine. I start to answer, but the sound gets completely lost in the meeting of our lips. My fingers tangle in his hair and he pulls me even closer, his hands sliding easily down the sleek fabric of the dress.

"Derek," I mumble at last, after what feels like only a few seconds, but in reality is probably much longer. He just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head and nudging mine backward slightly. "Seriously!" I gasp, laughing and slipping out of his grasp. "Don't we have a date to be going on sometime tonight?"

After a lot more protesting in the form of unexpected breathless kisses and Derek trying to argue that none of the kissing was his fault, because I'd apparently asked for sex by simply mentioning the word, we finally made it into the car. I know. It makes no sense. But Derek swears that according to some unwritten guy rulebook, it's true. Unwritten guy rule book…right. I'm dating a madman. Seriously.

Still, I don't really mind. It's the fun arguing. The good, playful, I'd like to rip your clothes off now, but I can't, so we're going to do this instead type of arguing. And that? It's a whole world away from the "You don't get to call me a whore" type of arguing. And it's a lot more enjoyable too.

"Why are you covering my eyes?" I ask as we walk into the front lobby of what I can only describe as a seriously fancy restaurant, and Derek places a warm hand over my eyes. I twist around to look at him, but he just grins and shushes me, spinning me back towards the dark shielding press of his palm against my eyelids.

"It's a surprise," he whispers in my ear, his voice dipping low and husky and sending a sudden course of shivers down my spine.

"What's a surprise?" I protest, giggling as his other hand finds my waist and guides me forward. "I already know where we are. I saw the restaurant when we walked in."

He just murmurs a low sound of agreement. "Mmhmm…"

"Seriously," I continue, trying to come up with the words that had been scrawled in gold across the clear glass doors. "Bistroe Something-fancy name?" I manage at last, actually earning a snort of laughter from Derek. "Hey, stop laughing. I always ditched language in high school!" I say, giggling into his hand as he guides me through the restaurant. I'd normally feel stupid wandering blindfolded by my boyfriend's hand through what I can only assume is a room full of people eating their meals. But, my boyfriend is Derek. So somehow…I just don't.

He pauses, and mumbles something to someone who I'm assuming is a waiter. The reply is a polite crisp, "Yes sir, straight up the stairs to your left."

"Stairs?" I echo weakly as Derek thanks the waiter.

"You're cute," he states blithely, leaning towards me again, and I can hear the smile in his words even though I can't see his face.

"Stairs Derek," I repeat.

"Yeah. Stairs."

"Seriously Derek? Stairs? As in you and me, going upstairs?"

"Mmhmm," he murmurs again, still steering me blindly across the room. "You've met them before Mer. Lots of successive, raised steps."

"Derek, I know what stairs are," I snap, shaking my head. "It's just, in case you haven't noticed, I'm wearing three inch heels. I'm not a tall shoe person, but for some reason, I'm wearing tall shoes tonight. And since you're not letting me see anything, we either have to take off my shoes, or you have to let me see, or…"

"Promise you'll keep your eyes closed?" he interrupts.

"Okay…sure. Whatever. I'm not peeking. But still…" Before I can finish my sentence, Derek takes his hand away from my eyes and I'm swept up off my feet and into his arms. "Derek!" I say, the sound coming out somewhere halfway between laughter and a gasp of surprise.

"Not peeking?" he asks.

"Not peeking," I murmur, keeping my eyes shut and turning my face towards his chest. Instantly we start moving upward, slowly, in a great spiral circle. "Derek?" I ask quietly after we've taken a few steps.

"Mer?"

"Are there people in this restaurant?"

"People?" he asks.

"You know…people down there, eating their dinners, enjoying a night out, wondering what the hell you're doing…you know, just people."

"Ah yeah," he says slowly and I can tell he's grinning. "Yeah, there might be a few of those."

"Right…" I should mind. At the very least, the sensible doctor part of me should mind. But even it doesn't give a damn. Because I've got on this fancy dress and ridiculous shoes I'll probably never wear again, and I'm in Derek's arms with no clue where I'm going, and somehow this all feels so much like a fairytale that I can't help but giggle, and cling tighter and not care at all.

Eventually, the feeling of continually ascending stops. We're upstairs, wherever that is. The air feels different up here - warmer, fresher, and softer somehow. The music from downstairs has faded away into the vaguest whisper of a melody and the murmur of conversations has stopped completely. Instead…I think I hear the sound of water. It's a deep gentle sound like the roll and crash and lapping spray of waves.

"Derek?" I begin, but he shakes his head, his chin brushing against the crown of my head.

"Shhh Mer," he says gently, still carrying me forward. "Wait." A moment later there's the sound of a chair scraping backwards, and he lowers me down into what has to be the world's softest chair. The fabric beneath my fingers feels delicate and expensive. Actually, it feels incredibly expensive, as in I'm going to open my eyes and find myself seated at a table set entirely in crystal with fifteen forks to choose from. _That _kind of expensive.

And if that happens? I'll be screwed. Seriously. Screwed. Lusty interns don't do fifteen fork dinners. At least, I didn't think we had to. Oh well…it'll just be one more reminder as to how completely I fall short of Addison.

"Meredith?" asks Derek, his hands once again over my eyes.

"Yes?" Somehow I manage to bite back the urge to ask him if I'm sitting in front of a utensil orgy. (Look who's displaying self control now Cristina!)

Derek takes what sounds like a shakey breath, and as his hands drop away from my eyes to rest on my shoulders, I feel a warm breeze blow across my face, stirring my hair. "Open your eyes," he says at last. And I do. Hesitantly.

But the hesitancy? Totally not necessary. Because as I open my eyes, it's not to fifteen forks. It's not to any sort of table setting Addison could dream up. Because when I open my eyes, it's just so completely us.

It's…ferryboats.

I think I gasp because we're alone on this balcony with the doors thrown wide open, and somehow we're seated far out over the water. I was right about the sound of the waves, and the sound grows clearer and more familiar as my eyes match it with the slow undulating motions of the dark water below us. On the balcony, everything is white with candlelight, and lilies (which I've always preferred to roses) are strewn everywhere with a sort of perfectly reckless precision that I thought was only possible in nature. And I think I've got tears in my eyes because the sky looks sort of blurry, but even still I can make out the first dots of starlight and the fading reds and golds of the sunset. The colors echo themselves in these shimmering patches across the water, and out there, in the middle of it all, are the ferryboats. They're these great looming shapes, dark except for the little glowing lights of the windows onboard, and they're moving slowly across the water. And right now, there's something eerie and majestic about them, that I never fully noticed before.

"Meredith?" says Derek again, moving around to sit beside me at the table. I nod my head and move my lips to answer him, but no sound comes out. Because seriously? I'm supposed to speak right now? That's not exactly possible because…ferryboats. He got me a first date with candles and flowers and romance and _ferryboats_. I'm going to need a moment here. "Mer?" he repeats, his hand grasping mine, and I finally notice the note of anxiety in his voice. I nod again and turn to look at him.

"Yeah?" I manage at last, brushing away a stray tear.

"Is it…" Derek begins hesitantly. "Do you like…is it okay?" Right now, staring at the man I love, there's something different about him. He isn't Derek Shephered MD, the competent, renowned neurosurgeon. He's just Derek. The guy that sings rather badly in the shower and has questionable taste in breakfast cereals. And the way he's staring at me isn't with the confidence of the doctor who always has the right answers. It's something far more nervous. Something vulnerable even.

"Yes," I whisper, my face splitting impulsively into a grin. "Yes…it's…perfect. It's ferryboats Derek!" I declare, spreading my arms out wide. I feel like I'm trying to drink in everything at once, but there's too much, and it's leaving me giddy and deliriously happy.

"You like it," he says, his mouth lifting into a matching grin.

"Yes. I love it. Seriously…it's perfect." And it _is_ perfect.

"Good. I want you to have perfect Meredith," Derek replies, his voice growing suddenly quiet. "You deserve perfect…you deserve…so much better than I've given you in the past…" There's a shudder to his words as he speaks, and the vulnerability from moments before comes surging back with a strength that makes me breathless. Because really, when you think about it, the fact that Derek puts me out on this brink and turns me into this highly breakable person is pretty much common knowledge. He could destroy me if he wanted to. Destroy. Me. _Easily. _He almost did before.

But me destroy Derek Shepherd? _The_ Derek Shepherd? Before now, I didn't quite think it was possible. But right now, the fact that I can is crystal freaking clear. It's written in his face and in his eyes. It's written everywhere, and I don't know whether I should be comforted by the fact that we're equally breakable or be terrified by what all this would mean if we ever went wrong again.

Our fingers intertwine almost desperately, and I think it's a little bit of both.

"This time," I begin, and my voice is a whisper. "This time things are going to be better. Things are going to be less…" I let my voice trail off, not quite sure how to sum up last time.

"Less fucked up?" suggests Derek after a moment, with a brief hint of his usual grin.

"Yes," I agree, and I'm laughing despite the seriousness of the moment because…we were. Fucked up, that is. There wasn't a single thing that was "right" about us the first time around, except for maybe that feeling…it's almost indescribable, but it seems to have stuck around. It's the way I get when we stare at each other, and I know in my gut or my heart or whatever, that I could never want anyone like this again. I could never want someone else as _completely_ as I want Derek. "Please…" I say quietly once our laughter has faded away. "I want us to work this time. I just…I need us to…"

"It has to work Mer," says Derek as I let my words once more trail off into silence. "It has to last." I'm staring at the clean white folds of the tablecloth, but I can feel Derek's eyes trained on me. Somehow that pulls my gaze upward until we're staring, eyes locked, deep into each other. We've never talked quite like this before. I mean, we've talked and we've argued and we've said all sorts of things. But something about this feels…raw, in a way that's entirely new. "You're the end for me," he continues, his voice low and earnest, and somehow completely solemn. "Meredith…nobody can come after you."

I nod my head, once again unable to speak. I can feel the tears running down my face and see them echoed in the corners of Derek's eyes. This is hardly a first date conversation, but seriously…trying to pass this off as a first date would only be fooling ourselves.

"I love you," I say at last, and my voice finally grows stronger then a whisper.

His reply is both instant and urgent. "I love you too."

Our bodies move in unison, leaning forward until our lips meet. And we're kissing - soft and slow, and then deeper, until we've each got a hand thoroughly tangled in the other's hair. Derek's holding my face close to his and I'm leaning into him, my other hand pressed close against his chest. It's perfect, moonlight over the water, candlelit, ferryboat kissing. But the thing is, even that falls short of describing what we're doing. I don't think I ever want to pull away, because this kiss? It's so much more then a kiss.

It's a promise not to break each other.

_Derek_

Her lips are warm and earnest against mine, a sharp contrast to the cool wetness of her tears staining my cheeks. I'd pull away and beg her not to cry if I didn't understand so completely why the tears are there. I think I've even got matching tears falling from my own eyes. This wasn't what I'd expected when I had picked her up earlier tonight. As I suffered through O'Malley's rather stern greeting as he let me in, and Izzie's continual insistance on referring to me only as McDreamy every time she called up to Meredith to hurry, well…I just, I couldn't have imagined this. At her house, there was so much giggling surrounding me, and Meredith was switching back and forth with lightening speed between shaking her head and looking up at me with something wicked hidden in the depths of her green eyes. The evening started off with that fire-hot buzz…like the one that comes from drinking just slightly too much alcohol, and it was impossible for me to feel anything but happy and excited.

Only now…now, I can't even put what I'm feeling into words. I'm happy, but it's not a simple kind of happy. It's actually a hellishly overwhelming sort of happiness that would leave me somewhat scared and confused were it not for the reassurance of Meredith's lips on mine. The reassurance that she understands exactly where I'm coming from.

Finally we both pull away. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair has been ruffled so much that I know if she could see it, she would purse her lips together and instinctively reach up to smooth it. But I love it just like it is. With all the candlelight, it looks like she's surrounded by a golden halo. "So…" she breathes softly, almost selfconsciously, tracing the swollen curve of her lip with a fingertip.

"So," I echo, nodding my head.

"Not exactly a first date," Meredith says in a rush. She reaches out to fidget with the napkin, her eyes shining and her cheeks starting to flush even further. "I mean…not that this isn't a good date. It is. It's a _great _date. I just, well…we just said a lot of…stuff. Big stuff. I don't usually, _we_ don't usually, say those kind of things. At least, not like that. Not…"

I nod again, smiling at her. We don't usually say the big things. Not to each other, sanely and at the same time. But I like the big things. More big things I say. Still, she's rambling, and I can tell she desperately needs a minute to breathe. "Meredith," I say, catching her hands in mine, and saving the napkin from further knotting.

"Yeah?" She looks up, her lips red and parted and her eyes questioning. I shrug, completely losing my train of though. I'd been meaning to say something helpful, something intelligent…something to calm her down…only I can't. Because, well…fuck. You only have to _look_ at her to understand.

"You're beautiful," I say, the words just falling from my mouth. And she is. She's all green eyed and messy-haired, her tiny hands curling smoothly around my wrist, the slender pale curve of her right leg somehow finding its way across my lap. Her expression hints at this glorious smile for a single second before quickly curving into a frown.

"Derek," she says dismissively, rolling her eyes. "Seriously."

"Seriously," I agree, grinning and wiggling my eyebrows at her. And even though it wasn't the fullblown, eloquent reassurance I'd hoped to give her…it seems to have worked. Because she's giggling again and shaking her head, and somehow, in between rounds of smirking back and forth at each other, we feel our way back to normal. It's safe and comfortable, and while it's not currently soul-shattering, it's still completely us. And most of all, it means we finally get a chance to look down and read the menu.

I don't really remember speaking to the waiter, or even how the food we ordered tasted. I'm sure it was good. I've been here before, many months ago, when Richard took me on a welcome to Seattle dinner. I was miserable that night, thinking about my wreck of a life back in New York, and trying to avoid Richard's continuous stream of questions about Addison. The only thing worth noticing, the only thing that had cheered me up at all, had been the food. To put it simply, it was amazing. I'd been planning to take Meredith here before, back when we'd first started dating. Only…we never quite made it to that dinner. Secret wives have a way of making relationships fall apart in a way I'd never even managed to consider as being possible. Not that I can blame anyone but myself for that, but still…I'd never gotten to take Mer here.

Turns out though…the food isn't really worth noticing. At least, not when I'm sitting next to Meredith. The flavors blend together, growing muted in the presence of her smile. They're just inconsequential details when the woman I love is finally, completely, mine. Still, as we leave the restaurant, Meredith slips into the crook of my arm, murmuring something soft and warm that I think translates into praise for the restaurant.

"I'm glad you liked it," I say, turning slightly to kiss the top of her head.

"Mmhmm…" she murmurs, sounding sleepy. "I did." She folds herself deeper into my arms. Neither of us says a word, but our footsteps don't head towards my parked car waiting in front of the restaurant. Instead we turn, shuffling and clacking in unison down the slow slope of the sidewalk. The air grows cooler and the sound of the waves grows louder as the shadowy form of the dock comes into view. "Ferryboats," she breathes, staring out over the water as the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile.

"Yeah, I know. Twice in one night." I grin at her, shaking my head. "Sorry. I'm not a very creative boyfriend."

"Right," she snorts, smirking at me. "It's okay…I heard you have a thing for them."

"Yes, I do," I agree as we weave our way through the ticket booth. "It's a very intense thing." Meredith just raises an eyebrow, still smirking at me. "Some might say it's passionate," I continue. "Epic, even."

"Epic?" she echoes, leaning against the railing and looking up at me.

"Yes, epic."

"Hmm…" Meredith says, turning back around to lean out over the inky black water. "Good thing you're going to get your fix tonight then." She glances over her shoulder as she speaks, and her voice is light, even innocent. Only her eyes are anything but, and before I have time to give a damn about any of the other passengers, we're pressed together and kissing again. We don't stop until we feel the slow lurch of the boat pulling away from the dock followed by the continuous sensation of moving over water. Meredith steps away before sighing, and settling once more into my arms. It's completely dark out now, every trace of daylight having vanished into the west. Her blonde hair is pale in the moonlight, and the wind whips it wildly about, filling the air with the scent of lavender.

Neither of us speaks as we move far out across the water. Right now…there isn't anything to say. Because right now, everything is perfect. It's just _us_. Us, the low lull of water, and the wild whispering of the wind. Even the conversations of the other passengers are fading away into something entirely forgetful. Everything fades away in front of us. I think I'm in danger of forgetting the world.

Or it could just be that Meredith's become my world, and there's no longer anything else that matters.

-----

_A/N - And that's it. The end. Meredith and Derek are happy and in love, and have realized that they're the end for each other. I know it's not a wedding or a proposal...it's a first date, but as Meredith says...it's not really a first date. It's them finally understanding exactly what the other one wants and feels, and in the end, coming to rest at the exact same spot. Plus...it's ferryboats. Hee... Ever since I started this story, I knew I wanted it to end on a ferryboat._

_ As for this story? I've loved writing it. I was a bit hesitant about trying the first person POV myself, but I've ended up adoring this writing style. So yeah...it was a lot of fun. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it too. And a huge, heartfelt thank you to everyone who took the time to read this piece and review it. It's totally inspiring to read your comments, just amazing. The story wouldn't be here without you guys!_

_ As for future stories? Well...I've got two intense weeks of finals coming up...but then...a glorious month of winter vacation. So hopefully, I'll be able to get a lot of writing done and at least a story up over break. As for which story it will be, I'm not sure yet. I was planning a sequal to And It All Falls Apart, but...that was going to include lots of Mark Sloane. And currently...I'm not a Mark fan. Not at all. I've a host of issues with the Sloane. So yeah...I may have to revise that story, or I may just put it on hold and write something new. I'm not sure...it'll be a surprise! Hee._

_ Anyway, that's it. Thanks for sticking with this story. So much love to you guys. The end!  
_


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